A Dangerous Thing
by devilsalt
Summary: When a Templar and a Mage fall in-love, dark terrible things begin to happen. For Cullen and Amell, realizing their denied feelings for one another has set them on a course that only ends in tragedy. Sets during Dragon Age: Origins.
1. The Forbidden Prologue

**Author`s Note: Here's one of the DA stories I promised would eventually make an appearance. I know Cullen seems rather out-of-character but I can assure you it'll all make sense soon. This story will run parallel with the other one, which will be a Cousland tale. Anyhow, I think my next update will be a _Dark Incursion_ chapter. Oh and a little warning this first chapter includes some mature intimacy, just to let you know.**

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><p>I. THE FORBIDDEN PROLOGUE<p>

Cullen had only noticed her in passing, sitting quietly among the leftover candlelight from an earlier service held by the chantry. She sat posed in the front pew, an unusual location for someone up this late in the night. As for the young Templar himself, his excuse was his inability to fall asleep with a busy conscious. So, to clear his head, Cullen left his quarters to take a stroll through the tower. Hopefully, wandering around would have him grow tire and he'd be crawling back into his bunk sooner than later. Something was different that night. Instead of calling to her in a hushed voice to return to her room, he checked the corridors for Templars on duty and then stepped across the doorway.

The chapel was rather beautiful in the absence of heavily armored Templars keeping a strict eye on mages about, while women of the Chantry were knelt in continuous prayer. But at night they were all gone, and the dancing candlelight left a romantic glow on the statues and drapes decorated about the chapel. Then there was the silence, a quietness he was only familiar with from his childhood; he lived in a farming community and would watch the stars at the dead of night when everything in the world appeared to stand still. Tonight felt like those long lost nights.

As quietly as he had entered the chapel, Cullen carried the torch that had been guiding him on his nightly adventure over to a pillar in the room and placed it securely into the iron holder. When his hands were free, he approached the dark silhouette centered in the front pew in the shadow of a stone statue. If he hadn't safely assumed her identity already, the Templar would have been surprised to find an apprentice sitting properly with her eyes closed and deep in thought. Cullen was struck by her unusual demeanor as a soon-to-be mage. While most would do anything to free themselves from the circle walls that bound them here, she had a calming acceptance of her fate.

His bare feet scarcely made a sound as he padded across the cold stone that laid the floor, capturing a glimpse of her face as he rounded the first pew. The serene calmness of her ivory face swept away all the worries that had stirred him throughout the night, an effect she most often had on him whenever she was near. "Isn't it a little to late for you to be out of your chambers miss?" There was no friendly exchange of greetings or even a smile to pass along as the both of them gazed upon one another in a lazed expression. Cullen didn't know why, but with her he didn't nervously stumble across his words or come across as a babbling fool, as he usually did.

"I'm afraid I can't slip into the fade tonight." Whenever Astrid spoke it was in a coolness and calmness that you'd have to hear to understand, almost as if she had undergone tranquility but held on to her emotions. Cullen was sitting beside her, taking notice to the apprentice's nighttime attire: a short linen tunic and silk robe. She turned to face him again, just as emotionless as before, "I see the same goes for you too Cullen."

Again in dazed confusion, Cullen didn't understand the flood of anxiety that overcame him when she said his name. Astrid had said it many times prior to this time, but the feeling only grew worst the more she did. He had to move this conversation along. "A lot has been on my mind recently," he said in an oblivious whisper, speaking to himself rather than out loud.

The young templar had been informed during his supper that in a fortnight he would be the Templar assigned to cut down the apprentice, should he fail his harrowing. The impending task had cause Cullen immense dread and many sleep-less nights. He never imagined he'd be the one to bring a man to his end, at least outside of the Blight raging across Ferelden outside the tower. Cullen thought himself to be a forgiving, upholding the justice type of Templar; he was an avid believer in second chances. A shaky breath from his left brought him away from his worries and back to Astrid, whom was staring hopelessly at the statue, almost in prayer.

Cullen watched as Astrid Amell breathed in deeply, catching herself slip. She was incredulously trying to suppress emotions she was on the verge of exposing to him, and she was using all her might to seal them. Of course he could tell, underneath the armor and shy stammering of a fool was a very observant fellow. As much as his subconscious was begging him to comfort her, Cullen understood he needed to wait for her to speak at her own accord. Which she did, after a long moment passed of silence.

"First Enchanter Irving has informed me of my Harrowing," she said weakly, still trying to mask the obvious fear. Cullen felt his stomach jump. Was she to be the apprentice he was assigned to slay should she fail? He had never felt so sick before. Of all the apprentices, why did it have to be her?

"In a fortnight?" he asked, desperate for an answer. Astrid's head turned to him slowly from realization, her mask crumbling as Cullen shook his head in disbelief. "No, no, no," he was whispering under his breath.

Suddenly he heard sobbing, and turning his head back towards her, he saw glistening streams of tears streaking down Astrid's face. Cullen had never seen her so afraid and she tried to hide it by burying her face in the palms of her hands. He could still painfully hear her crying, choking as she tried to stay hush in the echoing chapel. "I'm so scared Cullen," she whimpered in a series of tearful words. "The last three apprentices before me were all killed for failing! How can I possibly beat the odds."

Astrid was right, more apprentices were failing rather than passing in recent Harrowings. Which was only a concern for Templars like himself, but for awaiting apprentices, it was an incredible scare. Cullen was at a loss for words. The Templar in him wanted to 'wish her luck', but the friend in him was rather concerned, and more afraid of the outcome than he needed be. He had never seen Astrid cry until now, or any woman for that matter. But seeing her cry now was unsettling. Her usual collected self had faltered in his company and it was stirring something within Cullen he had never felt before. As a result, in a near heartbeat, the young Templar had stroked her cheek and kissed her watery salty lips.

What Cullen was feeling he had only felt in a dream before, and he had dismissed it to be just another strange dream. But in that second he had touched her lips for the first time, he knew it was entirely something different than another dream. Cullen pulled away trembling, regretting his emotion as he turned away from her. He had crossed that distinct and dark line that had been drilled into him since his training. Templars were forbidden to engage with the mages intimately. The Templar recoiled to the end of the pew, hanging his head in worry and guilt. He knew it was probably best he left, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"Cullen," Astrid gasped in disbelief. Cullen could hear that he had caught her off guard and it had caused her tears to seize momentarily. As much as he wanted to avoid her gaze, he brought himself to look at her again at the syllables of his name on her tongue. Her hand was reaching for his and immediately he pulled it into his lap, stunned by how she responding. The apprentices hand fell back into her lap too, and as Cullen looked away from her, she look away from him. "So I do disgust you templars that much?"

He wanted to say no, but his lips couldn't shape the word. Cullen watched as she began to cry again, this time more composed so that only tears were streaking down her cheeks. Astrid closed her eyes tightly and spoke, "What am I saying, I am disgusting." In all the years he had known her, not once had he ever heard her speak with such distain and hatred. It hurt to realize she spoke hatefully of herself alone. "I'm a bloody stain on my family's name." Cullen watched her teeth grit together and as she clutched at her robe with balled fists. He knew that Astrid had been left for the circle as a newborn, abandoned by her family to spend her entire memories locked away in the tower like a fairytale princess.

Suddenly he felt unbound by his tongue and answered her cruel words with comfort. "Astrid...," he moved to her again, he boldly took both her hands within his own, crossing the boundary for the second time. She looked at him surprised, face glittering in the dying candlelight. "You- You have never dis- disgusted me..." he was breathing hard, beginning to return to his nervous stuttering. "In- in fact," he went on, "I'm rather-" Cullen didn't know how to put his hidden feelings into words, after so long of denying them. He glanced nervously at the floor and looking up he noticed Astrid was shortening the distance between their faces. "I'm rather-" he muttered again as her lips found his.

The red lips he had subconsciously watched grow plump for years were salty and still wet as he covered her mouth with his. Their kisses were long and gentle, both Cullen and Astrid novices to how they truly felt for one another. Cullen reached to stroke her cheek, pushing back a curly strand of dark hair behind her ear. His other hand touched her now exposed thigh, cold from the night air and soft. From touching her his fingertips tingled, something he had heard sometimes happened when a mage was excited and their control over magic began to loosen.

Cullen reached for her silk robe, sliding it carefully over her shoulders and down the length of her arms, parting their clinging lips momentarily to see her cloudy eyes. The young Templar felt entirely intoxicated, not in the drunken manner, but when suddenly nothing in the world could penetrate the dream-like moment he was living. He could feel Astrid tremble from his touch as the gazed upon one another and he began to lead her to the floor. Her robe he was sprawling across the cold stone flooring as she joined him, supporting herself with his shoulders as she slowly knelt before him.

Crawling forward, Cullen embraced her lips again and gently pushed her down over the blanketed robe. He could see her cheeks redden under the light as her hands left his broad shoulders and caressed the outlines of his chest through his tunic. Lost in light of lust, Cullen sat up on his legs and grabbed for the frayed end of his tunic, pulling it wastefully over his head. He watched her reach for him, as he pulled her up by the waist to place his removed tunic beneath her head. Then they were kissing again, with a little encouraged passion as Astrid clung to his arms and Cullen began to move her tunic up and over her curvy hips.

She sat up with him to help relieve the stress of removing her tunic on the ground. As soon as it had sprung from over her head, Cullen was as speechless as he had been this entire time; but there was no need for words. Astrid's beauty beckoned him to her and soon he was flush with her flesh, as she wrapped her arms around him for warmth. Her warm breasts pressed to him sent another fit of tingling sensation where their skin met and Cullen found himself kissing her more deeply, dipping his tongue into her mouth as she responded in clinging tighter to him. Cullen begun to lay her down again as she moved to hug his hips with her legs. He couldn't untie the draw strings of his pants any faster.

Out in the corridor, where an exhausted Templar guard trudged about saw a fire flicker between the parted doors of the chapel. He paused curious of the torch hanging on the wall, but his interest was satisfied when he recognized the remaining candles from the evening service. So he continued along his route, unknowingly turning a blind eye to a Templar and Mage making passionate love within the shadows.

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><p><strong>JULY 12—Just started the sequel, check out A Dangerous Game!<strong>


	2. Dreaming Fools

**Author`s Note: So this took FOREVER to update, but that just means I am a slacker and can only write at the lastest of nights and earliest of mornings. So I really like this chapter, I know Cullen may seem little OOC, but I assure you he's still the lovely paranoid templar we love. And just so you know, my Amell will not be the one recruited, it'll be the elf mage (can't remember the last name). So this story will take place at the tower while the blight is happening. Enjoy, new chapter soon(er)!**

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><p>II. DREAMING FOOLS<p>

Cullen was trying his best not to awake from the utopia of his dreams, the entanglement of their hot bodies atop the stone floor of the chantry chapel. Oh how he began to reminisce how she clung to him by her fingertips and dug her nails into the built of his back and shoulders; throwing her head back in faintness and then tucking it back into his sweaty shoulder. He knew they would have to part soon, before the chantry and templars woke for their morning tasks. So Cullen grasped for that slender bare body, to stroke her matted hair and kiss her gently awake. Then suddenly he stirred completely awake.

The chapel floor was abruptly his wooden bunk, warm and empty except for himself. Cullen's linen tunic which he had used to support Astrid's head was smug on his body, as well as his trousers. He had never awoken so confused before. It was a terrible feeling that made him uneasy as he rose from his bed and swung his legs over the side. As far back as Cullen could think, he couldn't begin to fathom how he returned to the Templar quarters. He scratched the back of his head, eager for the answer, which only brought upon another puzzling question: Did last night really happen?

Had Cullen insulted his vows by indulging in carnal love-making, in the Chantry's sacred chapel and with a soon-to-be mage? Oh maker, he wish he knew. It was all still so vividly replaying in his mind, the panting and moaning; how even when both had reached their finishing cry, they would continue into another routine of pleasure. If it really was just a figment of last night's dream, Cullen prayed he would never forget.

He yawned and stretched, and then approached where he had hung his Templar armor from the night before. With his mind all in a daze, he found it harder than usual to dress himself and properly latch his armor on. If the second Knight-Commander, Hadley, hadn't come to check on him he'd probably be staring into a mirror for a while longer. Hadley was one of the only Templars that had a patience for Cullen's various antics, whether it be stammering like a fool or his constant tardiness. He respected Hadley since the Templar took him under his wing when he joined the templars in the Circle. Cullen sometimes even looked to him as an older sibling.

"Oh Cullen," Hadley began to chuckle, catching Cullen trying to put his chest plate on backwards, "Surely you have not forgotten how to dress yourself that terribly since you left your mummy." Cullen suddenly noticed his mistake, the templar's voice shaking him from a very erotic daydream. He began to undo the latches, that sure felt misplaced, and turned the chest plate to its proper manner. "There's a boy!" Hadley walked up behind the young templar and placed a armored hand on Cullen's shoulder. "If you're quick enough, you'll catch what is left of breakfast." He chuckled and left for the doorway, leaving with a few words, "If the mages don't eat it all first."

Mages? Right. An abomination, evil, wicked; mages were not meant to be imagined doing naughty things. No, mages were meant to stay in the tower where they belong and the templars were suppose to make sure their practice in magic was not blood related or for evil purposes. Cullen breathed a sigh of relief, _of course it was a dream._ A very bad dream, but as long as his vows were intact he had done nothing wrong. He smiled assuringly at himself in the mirror and left the Templar quarters for the mess-hall, where he was begging the Maker that their was still some breakfast left over.

With sword in sheath and all his latches clasped along his armor, he was a prompt example of a rookie Templar. He passed his fellow templars with a curtly nod and even brought himself to stammer a 'good morning' to the First Enchanter, Irving. Through the tower windows, sun radiated along the corridor and gave way to what was the beginning of a beautiful morning. And even more handsome, was the the smell of freshly baked bread as he entered the mess-hall; still buzzing with apprentices and mages, but under the careful eyes of Templars, whose bellies were already quite full. Upon entering, Hadley had stood up to wave Cullen down to his table and the young templar obliged to answer his summon. He sat opposite of Hadley, whom was already accompanied by templars Mathias and Godric.

"You made it with all your armor in its place, here have some bread," Hadley passed along the basket of bread, still warm from the tower's bakery. While most apprentices were going about preparing for their impending Harrowing, some were giving tasks about the tower to keep them busy during their free-time. This usually consisted of the cleaning and cooking; and for being cursed with magic, mages-to-be made delicious bread.

Cullen was indulging in a second slice of bread when an apprentice had approached him and the other templars. "Jam for your bread Sers?" he nearly choked when he heard her voice, as polite and cheerful as he he'd always known it to be, but when he looked at her in a daze he could only repeat her question in a sultry voice. Dressed in the apprentice robes, save for a heavy apron, Astrid beamed kindly at the templars with a tray of homemade jams. Luckily, Cullen hid his initial surprise behind his napkin.

"Why yes, thank-you!" spoke Templar Godric, whom reached for the jams from the tray and took the curtesy of gathering left-over plates from the table space beside him.

With his back turned, Cullen had made a curious look up at the apprentice, immediately hypnotized by her eyes that was half-open in his mind, while her mouth opened in a long moan. She seemed just as confused, but was less obvious as the young templar could only replay his dream of her over and over. Godric turned around with a couple of plates and added them to her tray to take back to the kitchen. "Thank-you Ser, anything to drink with your breakfast?" Cullen could only ignore her question, as his back began to burn in remembrance of her finger tips against his damping skin; clinging and scratching. Astrid, tried to look away from Cullen, but just as it was hard for him to resist it was as difficult for her as well.

"Some mead apprentice, please," Hadley said hastily upon noticing Cullen's strange attention towards the young girl. Cullen watched her nod and leave to fetch them beverage, but even in her absence, he could smell her perfume; a faint hint of citrus and honey, perhaps some lavender? No matter how enticing her fragrance, the young templar forced himself back to his bread, now just warm and still free of jam. Glancing about, the other templars took little notice to him staring after Astrid, that was all off them except Hadley. "She's the girl you'll be attending the Harrowing for yes, Cullen?"

Cullen's eyes suddenly dropped to his plate; his unforgettable dream had driven him to forget the upcoming Harrowing, his first. But if the Harrowing was for Astrid, how did he already know that? Yes, senior templars knew which apprentices were going into their test, but the templars assigned to cut down a failed apprentice were hardly told which apprentice it was. The only way he would have known is if he had talked to the very apprentice schedules for the same day he were to attend, and if he remembered correctly, him and Astrid had had that very conversation before they...no! As soon as the realization had fallen upon the templar, the very apprentice had returned with the mead and a smile.

"The very best brew for you Sers," she said proudly, most apprentices tried to do good for the templars instead of constantly rebelling. Astrid had always been told she was a fine example of an apprentice, by both templars and mages. Cullen couldn't bring himself to look at her, but intended to start conversation with Hadley, whom had already drawn his focus to the young apprentice filling their goblets.

"Apprentice, what happened to your neck?" Hadley's voice cut through the conversation between Mathias and Godric, and suddenly all their eyes had been drawn to Astrid; even Cullen's. The Second Knight-Commander used his napkin to brush the crumbs from his beard and dry his lips of mead, anticipating an answer.

"Well, a- another apprentice tried to take advantage of me Ser, but I took care of him in a proper manner," Cullen couldn't believe she had lied; lied with the face of an innocent woman. There was no apprentice whom forced himself upon her, he knew it was him. He knew the red mark about her neck was all his doing, and if they dared to look closer they could find one along her collar bone and breast...and other points about her curvy frame.

Hadley narrowed his gaze upon her in little interest to press the fact, "Are you taking your Harrowing soon apprentice?" Cullen swallowed hard, he was eager to confirm his dream.

"Yes Ser, thirteen days from today," Astrid seemed to tremble at the impending date, most apprentices did, and most templars liked to see them squirm. However, Hadley was merciful templar that didn't like to partake in teasing and bullying the mages.

"I see, so Cullen will be your guard," he non-chalantly pointed out with a wave of his hand. Cullen received cautious congratulations from the other templars; both had already been a guard at a Harrowing and being one was a major accomplishment as a templar. He watched for Astrid to crumble, but she merely smiled weakly with no intentions of giving away she had already known the fact. "And what is your name apprentice?"

"Astrid Ser," she spoke softly, "If you will excuse me, I have other duties I must attend."

Hadley waved his hand, "Of course, thank-you."

It hadn't been a dream. The forbidding meeting between him and Astrid had occurred, and in the chapel no less. The swelling of her chest against him was not imagined, the pleasure they had shared was not just an erotic fantasy. Cullen, the templar, had bed with an apprentice. It was still hard to fathom, even though they both had the marks to prove it. Even worst, this meant he had broken his vows and would be hung if the chantry discovered his sin and Astrid, she would be tranquilized or worst. He knew this would have to be a secret he took to the grave and would have to keep hidden from his fellow templars, especially Hadley whom always kept a close eye on him. This meant he couldn't let his mumbling stuttering self get the best of him. So, as if the encounter with the apprentice had never occurred this morning, Cullen continued to eat his breakfast, drink his mead, and slab on the jam.

"There haven't been many apprentices that look like that in the last few years," Godric commented over his goblet, taking a minor sip to hear Mathias's response.

He chuckled, "Too bad they're off-limits."

Godric and Mathias shared a buzzed toast and finished their breakfast with little else to say of Astrid, which was a relief for Cullen. Hadley left first to meet with the Knight-Commander Greagoir, and soon after the other two left to stand at their posts. Which left Cullen alone and struggling to decide what he should do next. Surely he should go attend his own post, but that meant the awkward possibility of crossing paths with Astrid. With him still being in shock, casually bumping into her was not the best of ideas. Him and Astrid had known each other since they were young, when he began his training as a Templar and she had entered the circle. They were both young and scared, and some bizarre friendship was born of it. Little had he known Astrid would bloom into the beautiful woman she was and him, a stammering fool for a templar. What could she have seen in him last night to giver herself to him? What did he allow her to do to let him ignore his vows in the dirtiest of ways? Whatever the reason, it happened and he was only a little regretful.

Cullen pulled himself away from the table full and left to attend the corridors, surely there was a mischievous young apprentice he could read the rules to or something. Clunking away from the mess-hall, he listened to the mages teach the apprentices as he passed the book-filled rooms and chambers. Templars already on duty greeted him until he reached a part of the apprentice hall he had been given the day prior to stand guard. He watched as people came and went, with little interest in paying attention to what was going on. Ever free thought brought him back to last night. Cullen could almost feel how her body had pressed into him from beneath him, even beneath the heavy armor, or how her short breathes of the word "more" nearly drove him to the brink of insanity. He closed his eyes and could see her back arch as he kissed along the taught line of her stomach, his whiskers apparently tickling her belly. It was all so enchanting, reliving those moments of pure bliss.

"Cullen?" his eyes fluttered open in a daze when he gazed upon a worried Astrid, now free of that hideous apron and donned in her fitting green apprentice robes. The young templar felt his loins suddenly burn, with her standing in front of him unconscious to her alluring smell he nearly tackled her there in the corridor. However, she was flustered in worried expression and any passion between them would have to wait. "So it..."

He watched as she struggled to put into words the realization of their affair, obviously she too had doubts when awaking this morning. There was so many things he wanted to ask her, many intimate things, but he knew it wouldn't work in the open. "Tonight, me-meet me at the ch-chapel..." his stuttering had come back, which only made her more frantic. Cullen never stuttered when he spoke to her, only rarely. She nodded gently and turned to leave for her room, pausing to look over her shoulder one last time at Cullen before disappearing around the bend. It was painful to let her leave, especially when he was craving her in ways he never knew a man could crave. He had craved a creamy dessert once and even a saucy roast, but never had Cullen craved a woman, it was forbidden.

Even so, he was to meet Astrid tonight in the chapel where they had splurged in a sexual encounter that he couldn't remember the end to. He glanced down the corridors to see no one and to hear nothing but silence, an observation that allowed him to follow Astrid to wherever she may have disappeared around the corner. He once knew which room was hers, but the more responsibility he had achieved the less time he ever had to talk with Astrid and he knew that apprentices were changing rooms constantly. Cullen glanced in an authoritative way into the rooms as he strolled past them, catching the red headed temptress scrubbing the floor with her roommate. He didn't know whom she was, but recognized she was an elf by the long pointed ears that poked under her curly mane. For a moment, he could only watch her, as she crawled on her hand and knees across the floor. The heat of labor must have gotten to her, for the top of her robes had been untied giving him a pleasant eye full as she bent over her work.

Cullen left the doorway to gather his thoughts, had he always lusted after her? Surely not. Another apprentice walked past him, perhaps one of the more attractive women in the circle, but there was no throbbing for her like he had for Astrid. From around the corner of the doorway, he heard her laugh ring into the hall, mixed with the chime of her roommate. Cullen knew he needed to snap out of this trance, or whatever it was. If he was going to at least pretend to be a loyal templar, he needed to let go of the forbidden image of Astrid straddling him for at least a second.

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><p>He waited until it was pitch dark again and the padding of a templar on watch had passed his room. Cullen whisked away with a lit torch and this time a fur robe as he back tracked to the chapel; anxious, eager, he wasn't sure what the feeling was at this point. Upon his journey he never crossed paths with a templar, which made easy entrance into the chapel where the door had already been cracked open. Upon entrance, the candles from early had all been cleared away and now only a few lit torches from the day had continued to burn; but not for long. He saw her immediately, in a green linen tunic and the dusty robe from the night before. Astrid stood as he met her, breathless with uncertainty. Cullen walked back to where he had placed his torch in a free iron holder and returned to Astrid in a dim light, her lovely features barely exposed to him.<p>

"Astrid," he whispered and reached for her hands. It was a sub-conscious act, but her warmth was comforting and encouraging. She meekly smiled and squeezed his hands back. "Did I hurt you last night?" he remembered the marks pointed out at breakfast and then the faint trace of blood he had noticed last night, but was too frenzied to mention.

If the lighting wasn't so terrible he could have sworn she blushed, a deep crimson red that only complimented her naturally dark red hair. She shook her head and smiled up at him, "Did I hurt you any?" Her question was a response to the bit of scratching she had done to his back that night, over and over. Cullen was going to answer, but she walked around him and gently pulled off his robe and disposed of it onto the pew. Then almost teasingly, she rose his tunic up and over his masculine back, tracing of scaring and blood glittering in the firelight. She traced them with her fingers at first, sending chills down Cullen's spine; and then she leaned against him, kissing her marks left on his tan skin. It almost sent him to the edge there, with just touches from her finger tips and lips. "I can heal them if you like," she offered quietly with her cheek pressed against his back.

"No need," Cullen turned around and faced her. "What happened last night?" Astrid's blush returned and she tried to draw away from Cullen, but he held her hands firmly within his grasp. She didn't know how to explain it herself, it was a passion she had never imagined before. But the young templar was asking her of the matter after they had succumbed to temptation. "I don't know how I returned to my bed chamber."

She looked scared then and forced her wrists free from Cullen's strong hold on her. Astrid stepped back and then turned so she didn't have to face him, not with what she was going to say. "I tried to make you forget it ever happened..." Cullen heard her choke, perhaps on the brink of tears. "I tried to cast a spell I read in a book on you, to get you to forget, but..." It then suddenly dawned on the templar that Astrid had used magic on him, without his consent and against the rules. His templar instincts suddenly kicked in and he grabbed her by the arm more firmly than before.

"You used magic on me?" his voice was darker than she had ever heard him before and tears streamed down her cheek. "On me."

"I wanted you to forget, go on like it had never happened Cullen. You must understand," he released her and wandered away from her. In disgust she was sure of it and began to breakdown. She never wanted this to happen, never wanted Cullen to hate her in the end. Why couldn't she be a good apprentice and perform the spell right? Failing brought another burst of tears when Astrid realized her Harrowing was just around the corner.

"What did it do instead Astrid?" Cullen demanded of her over his shoulder, still shunning her.

"It only put you in a sleepy state," she tried to hold back the tears, "I carried you back to your room and left for mine."

Cullen secretly breathed a sigh of relief, this meant his troubling understanding of his feelings weren't the work of a mage. It meant they were real. He turned to confront Astrid, but she was already leaving for the doorway. Surprised, the templar moved to catch her before she left and he did. Cullen spun her around and pushed her into the wall, just as a templar passed the doorway from outside in the corridor. The apprentice was breathing hard from having avoided a lethal mistake, but Cullen was catching his breath for an entirely different reason. Her loose tunic had fallen off one shoulder, exposing the silky flawless skin of hers. Astrid looked away from the doorway and into the blue lusty eyes of Cullen watching her, unable to decide his next move.

"Don't run," he whispered and leaned into her exposed shoulder, kissing and gnawing gently at her defined collarbone. Astrid caught her breath when he began to lick the length of her neck and grabbed desperately at her breasts. She turned her head aside to expose her flesh, not resisting when he unlaced her tunic slowly and released her round breasts to him. Cullen's hot breath warmed her skin and he just barely kissed her breast, unsure how to exactly play with them; he had nearly ignored them completely the night before. Astrid's trembling hand touched his and she closed his hand around her breast, closing her eyes at the heat of his skin against hers. Taking her guidance, Cullen massaged one breast while tangling his hand in her hair; kissing her as madly as he did before, sliding his tongue between her parting lips. The apprentice moaned into his mouth and he was lost.

In a few swift moments, Cullen had used his strength to push Astrid up against the wall and then her legs around his waist, while he struggled to remove his throbbing member from behind his pants. He pushed aside the small clothes beneath her tunic and slowly took her, listening to her huff as she took in his length. He didn't move at first, but kissed her tenderly on the mouth and moved the hair away from her flustered face. The templar and apprentice looked at one another with no understanding of their feelings, just swept away in the moment. "Don't run," Cullen whispered against her lips again, pressing his forehead against hers. Then suddenly he moved and she was caught off guard, "Don't run," he whispered and kissed against her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I won't," she answered in heated breath, kissing his forehead as he moved into her.

As he thrusted into her, felt her warmth, Cullen knew this time he wouldn't wake in shock. He'd wake and know it wasn't a dream, but the honest reality of two deprived people trapped in a bloody tower. And even as she moaned in ecstasy, he wasn't about to stop, not until the sun was threatening to expose them to the chantry. _Maker, forgive me._


	3. Spellbound

**Author`s Note: For the lovely favs and alerts, I decided I would spend some more time on this story and give my Mass Effect story sometime to breathe before all the action begins. Here's another one of those chapters, that when I started, had completely loved; but by the end I felt it sort of fell through. Anders is present for important character development and story development, as well as Myrah, whose parts were perhaps my favorite to right. Enjoy, and review if you get the chance :) The next chapter will be very soon.**

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><p>III. SPELLBOUND<p>

"You're snoring Astrid Amell." The young apprentice's eyes fluttered open and she was met with the large, gentle eyes of her bunkmate and best friend. Myrah Surana was once a poor city elf, gladly given up to the chantry when it meant her family could live more wealthily. She had beautiful natural curls, that Astrid fondly remembered braiding when they were young girls. Abandoned to the chantry herself, Astrid and Myrah had become inseparable after they had shared their first bunk together; granted they had fought for hours over who would get the top bunk beforehand. But now Myrah had grown into a young lady, much like Astrid herself, but never failed to return to her child-like antics now and then. "And no demon will want to possess you sounding like that."

Astrid giggled and grinned, "Now isn't that suppose to be a good thing." Myrah laughed with her and their laughter was loud and ringing through out the empty room, for most of the apprentices had already woke and were already attending their daily chores. The elf playfully pulled back Astrid's quilt and began to pull her from the bed, the apprentice nearly cried out in pain from being forced to her feet, but bit her tongue cautiously. Her hips and thighs ached painfully and she knew all too well why, it nearly made her go red from the very thought. Myrah reached into Astrid's trunk to retrieve her robes and boots, handing them to her and then turning around dutifully as she dressed. "All right, all done. What is the rush Myrah?"

"Oh nothing..." Myrah gestured with a wave of her hand, but her curled lips were far too full of mischief as she began to approach the exit. Astrid shook her head, certainly curious of her friend's behavior, but in no mood to be worried. The apprentice had began to notice that her worries had depleted immensely over the last week, for reasons she could blush about. She wondered if tonight too, more of her worries would be suppressed by her templar's touches. The very idea sent a tingle down the length of her spine.

Myrah held the wooden door to the room open for Astrid to pass through, she smiled thankfully and waited for Myrah to step through. "Ah, morning ladies," the voice, although familiar, had caught the apprentice by surprise. A mage, not too much older than herself, with honey blond hair tied out of his face and a handsome fresh shave to match; he had a charming grin presented to the ladies, as well as a polite nod to both of them. The infamous Anders, whom had made quite a name for himself through out the circle, was popular amongst the female crowd of apprentices and mages. Astrid smiled back, neither could she deny that he was a handsome fellow.

There was a gentle nudge by Myrah, who was frantically grinning ear-to-ear between Astrid and Anders, and was she wiggling her eyebrows? "Good morning Anders, I hadn't realized they had allowed you back to your quarters." Anders was a miraculous escape artist and was usually punished when he eventually was caught, ending with him spending a few long weeks isolated in a dark chamber in the basement of the tower. His recent escape had been a very lengthly swim across the lake, how he had managed to swim that far without giving up must have been from the help of some magic.

"Ah yes, well, good behavior ends with early release," he was neither insulted nor bothered by her comment, merely collected it as a compliment of his accomplishments. He adjusted his robes nervously; Mage robes were noticeably nicer than an apprentice's and his were far more cleaner than her own, mages rarely had to do any housework. "Will you be cooking this morning?"

Astrid had noticed she was staring and probably gazing at him in a girlish glamour that most other mages looked at him with. His question was a welcomed abruption. "No, neither me or Myrah are working kitchen today."

"Excellent, than I'll have the pleasure of having breakfast with two lovely ladies," Anders hushed any protest with a friendly gesture of his hand, "And I won't take no for an answer."

The elf beside her was ready to jump up and down beside Astrid, clutching her arm with riveting excitement. "I'd love to join you two, but I must attend a meeting with the First Enchanter. Surely you will be fine without my presence." That's when the dark red head saw Myrah's plan come full circle, as she ignored Astrid and nodded apologetically to Anders, whom only seemed to be a bit more cheery with the news.

"Well then, I will save you a place beside me my dearest Astrid," he reached for her hand and took it to his lips, charming her to the heavens and back. Then he did the same to Myrah, but with less tenderness as he had kissed Astrid's small hand. Anders left for the mess-hall, leaving the sparkling Myrah with Astrid, whom was ready to confront her friend as soon as the handsome mage had disappeared around the bend.

Myrah wasn't about to allow her to talk back however, she wrapped her arm with Astrid's and began to stroll her in the opposite direction. She skipped as they strolled, ready to spew the details of her calculated plan. "Oh Astrid isn't he just marvelous?" the apprentice opened her mouth to response, but the elf began to talk again. "Oh you should have seen him, he was so nervous, asking me to help him get a chance to talk to you. It was all so sweet." Astrid couldn't help but smile. All these years she had spent in the tower, she had only been the interest of corrupt and sleazy mages, hoping for an easy bedding. "Oh I couldn't be more happier for you my dear friend," Myrah hugged Astrid's arm and was grinning even more so than she was.

"Anders has a reputation though Myrah," Astrid knew much of Anders's misconduct with other mages and apprentices, especially since the other women weren't entirely hush about it. This apparently had snapped Myrah from her girlish fantasy of a happily ever after. She stopped them in the hallway and looked at her with worry.

"Oh Astrid I didn't even think of that. Oh I'm sure he'd understand if you said you were needed elsewhere and couldn't join him," Myrah always sided with Astrid and that's what made her the amazing companion she was, she knew when to push for answers and when to back off. In this case, she knew it was best to allow Astrid to make the decision instead of pushing her into a relationship that might hurt more than being pleasant.

Astrid looked away in thought, "But you said he asked specifically to get a chance to talk with me." She turned back to her encouraging elf, whom was simply smiling her usual smile now. "That has to count for something, right?" The more she considered the idea of Anders, the more it grew on her, and Astrid wasn't about to just turn her back on a possibly great thing. She locked arms with Myrah again and smiled assuringly, "I shall escort you to the First Enchanter's office and then I shall have breakfast with Anders."

The apprentices giggled arm in arm, Myrah with her fingers crossed and Astrid hoping for the best.

Myrah departed at the First Enchanter's office and Astrid made her way for the mess-hall, already strung along by the looming smells of breakfast splendor. The mess-hall was rumbling with conversation, a combination of mages and templars; most apprentices would have breakfast earlier so that they could get to their chores. She felt out of place as an apprentice, but no one made a fuss, especially one mage in particular. Anders left his table to meet Astrid, whom was growing nervous as he padded in her direction. At a distant table, a chorus of laughter caught her attention and she found herself focused on a group of templars enjoying early mead and bread, and with them was none other than Cullen. Her breath was caught in her throat and she barely looked away when Cullen's piercing blue eyes had caught her.

"There you are, I was worried you'd change your mind," Anders brushed her arm softly with his hand and his expression was flooded with happiness.

She wearily drew her gaze away from Cullen and forced a shaky smile, which didn't seem to bother Anders. He politely took her by the arm and directed her to the table, all along Astrid could feel the damning gaze of Cullen watching her. She knew there was little she could do, and there was nothing the templar could do; for all their nightly meetings were beyond forbidden. Trying to ignore the growing guilt, she forced her complete focus on the dashing mage, whom was already building her a wealthy plate of breakfast.

"I know you apprentices don't eat on a regular schedule, so it's important to eat well when you can," he even filled her goblet with water and a splash of mixed citrus, it was a refreshing swallow from the warm water she usually drank. Anders was gobbling down his meal, while Astrid was only nibbling, lathering her bread of jam charitably. "I know this was sort of just sprung on you Astrid," he was saying to her in a collected manner, wiping crumbs from his face. "I've always enjoyed your company- been fond of you," he looked at her with meaning, "I heard of your Harrowing and knew I wanted to help you."

"Help me Anders?" she was surprised. Since the uprising blight, many of the senior mages had had little time to help her with the necessary training for the Harrowing and she depending on books she had read to help. For Anders to want to help her was a sigh of relief and brought a cheerfulness to her. "I would most appreciate that, thank-you." Astrid was no longer worried about the templar in the corner; she had a chance now, with the help of an experienced mage, and apostate if she counted the many times he had left the circle.

"Good- no great!" the apprentice watched as Anders tried to hold his enthusiasm to the best of his ability, "Then we can start immediately after lunch. I've got a few things I'll need to make sure I have before we start."

Both enthralled in their excitement, they ate and chatted, mostly of Anders' daring escapades. And then they parting, knowing soon they would be one another's presence again in only a few short hours. Astrid couldn't wait to speak with Myrah, to tell her that Anders was simply marvelous and to thank her for being so clever. She felt that familiar wave of having no worries, and that being a soon-to-be mage trapped in a tower no longer felt so doomed. She was smiling to herself, walking passively back to her room to find Myrah, but rounding the corner had brought her in the presence of a templar. Cullen, to be exact.

Cullen appeared to be in the depth of his thoughts, paying no mind to whom crossed his path. His sullen expression made her chest ache, but looking him thoroughly in the light she could make out his soft features behind the curly golden locks and that gentle beard that had tickled her on many occasions now. Her breathing grew ragged from the sudden memory of his touch, and almost as if he heard her sharp inhale of breath he looked at her. Astrid was frozen, unsure how to approach him, it never use to be this hard. However, Cullen was already in front of her and checking the corridor before she could say a word. "Cullen-," she breathed before feeling him push her into an empty chamber. She looked around stunned, the chamber had seen better days, but was surely an old closet.

"That mage, what were you- you doing with him?" Astrid could sense his frustration radiate from where he stood, and his stuttering was always an obvious sign as well. Surely she didn't have to explain herself to him, as far as Astrid was concerned, Cullen didn't own her.

"His name is Anders and he has offered to help me prepare for the Harrowing, surely you can understand that," her voice was coated in all seriousness, Astrid had never been so cross with Cullen, even when they were young and immature. She paced to the other side of the closet, still comprehending the dangerous situation Cullen had abruptly placed them in. If they were caught, she wouldn't be facing a Harrowing but the gallows. As fear struck her, she turned back to the confused templar, "Cullen we can't be in here."

She placed her hand on Cullen's arm, hoping he would realize the situation was as dire as she did; but Cullen responded in a very different manner. He cupped Astrid's face between his gloved hands and covered her mouth with his, gently pushing her back into the nearest shelving unit. At first Astrid didn't resist, she tangled her fingers throughout his short locks and even bit his lip tenderly, but the moment Anders crossed her mind she used all her strength to push him away. However, the templar was persistent, continuing to kiss her lips and neck, even as she persistently tried to move him away. "Cullen no, I can't."

"Y- you don't w w-ant to anymore," his stammering was admirably adorable, but she couldn't allow herself to be distracted, even if it was with Cullen.

"Cullen, we don't even know what we are to each other," she spoke with realization. There was something there, but for them, there was a fine line between love and lust. Astrid felt Cullen relax, but still loomed dangerously close to her.

"I- you are right," he reached for her hands, which appeared abnormally small in his armored hands. "As usual."

Astrid felt a ping of pain, was this over? She tried to think of how nights would be, now that she wouldn't be sneaking out for a secret embrace among the chapel pews. That Cullen would no longer devour her tender flesh with kindred and wet kisses, and she could no longer run her hands along the taunt abs aligned on his body. Astrid found herself consciously running her hands through his hair again, allowing his hands to snake along her hips and sides. Then she was kissing him again, opening her mouth to his adventurous tongue. She felt the need to get closer to him, but his armor made it difficult and awkward. Astrid groaned when his armor dug into her uncomfortably and she broke the kiss, gazing longingly at Cullen. He rushed to remove his chest plate, the only real detour at this point, beside his gauntlets. He had already begun to pull up the skirt of her robes, holding her body so that she could wrap her legs around him again. Astrid clung to him when he had freed himself and entered her, beginning to move slow within her. She threw her head back from the intensity of their pleasure, covering her mouth with his, in an effort to muffle their noise.

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><p>Hours later, Astrid had wandered nervously back to her room, overcome with a cast of emotions as she unknowingly walked into Anders. She was caught by him before she stumbled back, still in a daze from her earlier liaison with the templar and unable to look at those dazzling eyes of the mage. The apprentice tried to walk, but she found herself still faint and her legs wobbly; so Anders propped her with an arm about her waist and lead her to the nearest bunk, which just so happened to be her own. "Are you alright," Anders questioned upon noticing her pale complexion and cold sweat. There was a hesitation to look at the mage, in fear she may give away what had been occurring for hours in a closet. Astrid suddenly felt like crying and doing nothing but hiding under her covers for the next few days. "Should I heal you-" Anders was frantic to know of her condition, jumping to his feet and looking for the direction he needed to go in.<p>

"No, that's not necessary, I'm just exhausted." Her words were merely the truth and Anders seemed to accept them as so, sighing and replacing the empty space beside her on the bed.

"I was worried," he blurted, "Although I was sure you were fine, I still was a smidgen worried." She looked to see him pinch his fingers together with a smirk, which brought a smile to her cold face. "I was worried the beautiful Astrid had discovered she was far too good for a lowly mage as myself."

"Lowly Anders?" she retaliated, surprised he had smirked through insulting himself. "A mage who can escape the confined prison walls of this place is definitely worth the highest praise." Astrid touched his shoulder and was promptly met with a cascade of Anders' emotions, both dark and lively. It caught her breath, the unusual connection she was making with him through their magic, something she had never felt with Cullen. Encouraged, Anders covered her hand with his and stroked the side of her hand with his thumb.

"I am aren't I?" he smugly agreed, "I should be worshipped."

Astrid laughed and leaned against him, suddenly overcome with tiredness and desperately trying to stop herself from contagiously yawning. "The templars would surely cut you down before you could even gather a following," she added, feeling herself adapt to the buzzing flow his magic that touched her.

"Ah yes, yes they would, but that would make me a martyr," Anders chuckled and pulled her close against him, "And martyrs are always remembered, no matter what."

She felt rather happy, curled against the mage at the edge of her bed; Astrid didn't even mind how he began to rub her back soothingly, only making her the more tired. And she was laughing, a feat she usually only shared with Myrah and their other roommates. Perhaps she had with Cullen as children, but age and responsibility had forced them apart; and if he hadn't found her in the chapel that fateful night, Astrid wouldn't be so conflicted as she was now. After so many endless and restless nights of being teased by desires demons in her dreams, Astrid sought shelter in the chapel, hoping the Maker would answer her pitiful prayer. She wanted to absolve the temptation that had attached itself so strongly to her, to return to normal pleasant promenades through the fade. But she was weak and Cullen's sensitive kiss was all it took for her to loose.

Slowly, she was becoming heavy against Anders. "I'll let you rest, we can begin tomorrow." As a gentleman would, he helped Astrid to her bed and even kissed her forehead. How could she have overlooked Anders all this time? In the moment she kissed his hand and smiled. "Sweet, naughty dreams of me my dear," he hushly called over his shoulder at her, catching the sweet hum of her chuckle before departing. Astrid rolled over to face the darkness of the wall across from her. It wasn't even nighttime and the apprentice was barely holding on to consciousness, thankful that the mages had at least give her a single day off from working about the tower. So she closed her eyes and begged to sleep, but no matter how hard her intentions were to dream of Anders, the heated breath and fixated eyes of the templar, whilst delivering her into complete ecstasy, had been the topic of her dream.


	4. Impossible

**Author`s Note: Here I said I would update soon and then I didn't...what I great writer I am. The next few chapters will lead up to how DA:O starts when you choose to be a mage, and no Astrid does not become the warden. And yes, there will be a sequel, I've just to plan it a bit more out while I'm working on this one. As you can see I'm trying to make Anders the charming funny mage we love, but I don't think I have exactly captured that yet. So this chapter is short and fairly terrible because I just couldn't decide how I wanted to end it, so I just ended it and all that I wanted to put into this one will be featured in the next chapter instead.**

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><p>IV. IMPOSSIBLE<p>

Astrid didn't see much of Cullen after that night, whether he was avoiding her she never had the chance to investigate. Since Anders had been witness to the aftermath of her fling with Cullen, she wondered if he grew a little suspicious or worried; he had barely let her out of his sight. He waited for her every morning after she woke and when her chores were finished for the day; Anders kept her company throughout her meals and was a pleasant distraction from the familiar templar that always seemed to be there as well. Best of all, the mage was helping her tremendously with preparations for the Harrowing; now a nerve wrecking three days away. They practiced vigorously, into the very darkness of night, with permission of the First Enchanter of course. Anders warned her that the Harrowing was designed to fail an apprentice almost immediately, which scared her tremendously.

The library was vacant except for the pair, whom had been busy in the library since after they had dinner; only taking momentary breaks for Astrid to catch her breath. She was striving to memorize every spell, to find the perfect counter attack for anything the Harrowing might throw at her. Anders began to summon an inferno, her final test for the night, and Astrid stood ready with her staff ready. The wall of swirling flame, glowing vibrantly and burning her face, suddenly came charging at her. With what willpower she had left, the apprentice casted Arcane Shield and was protected by a massive shimmering wall as the inferno collided into the barrier. When the smoke had settled, Astrid breathed a strong sigh of relief and smiled. She was ready to jump Anders and hug him for all he has done, but his frantic voice caught her. "Astrid, your boot!"

She immediately regarded said boot and saw a series of flames wildly ravaging the length of her knee-high boots. Astrid resorted to swatting at the fire rather than using magic to extinguish the flame, eventually causing her to tumble to the floor; where the flame was made due of with further swatting and rolling around. Anders was already kneeling in front of her when she sat up, propping herself with her arms, and blowing the disturbed hair from her face. The mage curled back some hair behind her ear and Astrid freed a hand to pull the few strands stuck to her lips. She could smell the burnt and blackened material of her boot, and was even beginning to feel slight irritation on her leg. "I'm hopeless Anders, I should have used a spell," she moaned in frustration.

"You're tired Astrid. That's all," he said with a toothy smile, which was a distracting feat from the fact he was moving her robe over her knee and beginning to loosen the laces of her boot. "You've worked yourself to exertion, which resulted in a small hole in your shield- which was entirely marvelous by the way." Astrid was proud by his compliment, haven never felt so proud of her magic skills before.

Her laces were loose in moments and she felt a sense of relief as the boot slipped off with ease, a portion of her sock began to flake away and beneath the char her skin was red and blistering. Astrid never felt the fire reach her leg, perhaps the adrenaline rush from the inferno had numbed the pain of it. Anders softly touched the injury with his right hand and she hissed from the burning sensation of his touch. He looked at her comfortingly and then his hand began to glow, a soft blue that reminded Astrid of a clear morning sky. The pain seized at once and the hideous blistering of her skin was healed to perfection, giving Anders a glimpse of her soft ivory skin that he had so grown eager for. Like a gentleman, he began to replace her boot, but Astrid stopped him by touching his hand. "Don't bother, I think i'll take them off," she whispered with a smile and reached to undo her other boot. Nonetheless, Anders stopped her and insisted he remove her other boot as well.

With her second boot, the mage almost purposely took his time slipping the length of the boot down her calf and over her ankle, holding her leg at the knee with massaging fingertips. He even carefully removed her socks, folded them, and tucked them away into her intact boot. Astrid leaned forward, adjusting herself so that she was sitting on her side and closer to the blond mage. "I would never have thought of you as a healer, not with all your escapes," she inquired curiously with another smile.

Anders chuckled, "I'm a healer as well as many other things," he added with a taunting smirk.

"Such as?" Astrid poked.

"Well, I'm bloody handsome for one," he stroked his stubble and modeled a cheeky grin, which Astrid chuckled. "I'm an amazing escape artist," he went on, all the while leaning a little closer to the apprentice without her noticing the slightest bit. She was enraptured with his wittiness, it made her blind to his obvious motive. "Charming," he paused, "and an amazing kisser." Before Astrid could even blush he had kissed her, cautiously, but with held back passion. His lips lingered against hers, pecking softly and asking for more; to which she gave in and began kissing him gently back.

Kissing Anders was unusual, compared to when she had kissed Cullen; with feverish passion and their tongues, if she hadn't mistaken. Anders' lips tingled and sent wild cold chills through out her spine, while Cullen made her burn for more. Burning from lust, which had been the only motive for the sex she began to realize; it had to be. The mage's hand stroked her knee as they still kissed, just barely on the brink of fervency; moving slow enough over her knee and up her thigh for Astrid to stop him. She didn't want this night in the library with Anders to be turned into her nights spent in the chapel with Cullen, at least not yet. If what Anders felt for her was true, she needed the time to get her priorities straight. He must of felt her hesitation, for Anders pulled away with a shy guilty grin.

"I shouldn't have done that," he apologized, sliding his hand off her thigh.

Astrid shook her head, "But I liked it."

She watched as Anders smiled pleased by her words and then smugly, "Then you wouldn't mind if I kiss you some more and maybe a bit more tomorrow as well?"

The apprentice was beyond flattered, there just wasn't anything that could describe how happy she was. In one fluid motion, she reached to touch Anders' stumbled cheek, "Perhaps you could start with a good night kiss?"

It probably hadn't dawned on him as it did her just how late they had stayed up practicing, and Astrid was finding it increasingly hard to keep her eyes open after being overcome with strong tiring emotions. "I can work with that," he whispered and Anders was once again smiling gleefully at her with a small glimmer of his normal charm. She watched him with a grin as he got back to his feet and extended his hands to help lift her back to her feet once she held on to them. He fixed her hair again and touched her cheek as she had touched his. "You look completely exhausted, I should get you back to your room."

The tower prisoners walked closely side-by-side as Anders escorted her back to the apprentice quarters. She felt as his hand purposely touched hers as they strolled along the corridor and even reach for her fingers when Templar guards would stop them along the way; Anders would then provide a scroll for the guard to see both the First Enchanter's and the Knight-Commander's signatures scribbled in ink at the bottom. Astrid swung her boots casually at her side, knowing she would need to find herself a new pair in the morning; she was lucky none of the templars had noticed she was parading back to her room barefooted. The young apprentice was drowning in her new found happiness that she barely recognized the brisk darkness of the corridor and the crisp chill in the air. However, that forgetfulness had changed when they passed the chantry and Astrid found herself staring longingly past the pews.

Anders barely noticed the change in her pace and she made sure of that. What her and Cullen had was dangerous and would cost her her life if the secret ever left her lips; she planned to take it to her grave. Even telling Myrah was a dangerous idea. As soon as the chantry had disappeared behind the bend, Astrid felt the anxiety of its passing leave her and sleepiness return. Her room was crawling closer and she felt the desire even more to curl beneath her blanket and to sleep to her heart's desire. So when the familiar iron-set door of her room finally made its appearance, Astrid breathed a yawning sigh of relief. The mage stopped momentarily beside her, grinning, but making due on his promise of a goodnight kiss.

"What is an apprentice and mage doing up past the hours?" Both Anders and Astrid were shocked to have not noticed the templar in the first place, especially Astrid, whom had noticed it to be Cullen immediately. He was obviously trying to withhold his anger, glancing disgruntled back and fourth between Astrid and Anders; she almost felt guilty. Anticipating another confrontation, Anders had left the scroll out for easy access. He unrolled it again, for the sixth time that night so far, and presented its content to Cullen, whom eyed Astrid over the top as he read it.

"As you can see, we were given permission," Anders said in haste, as if trying to rid of the templar as soon as possible.

Cullen re-rolled the scroll and handed it back to the mage, barely looking at Astrid now, which bothered her in a sense. "Very well," he answered, still in suspicion. She knew him seeing her with Anders had bothered him. She didn't know why, but she also didn't understand why she felt guilty being with Anders and not Cullen.

The templar walked past them to continue his rounds, glancing back at the two before rounding the corner. As if Anders had watched him closely all along, he sighed with relief when they were alone again and looked at her with anticipation. "I thought he'd never stop staring at you," Anders said grinning.

"What?" Astrid was caught off-guard and stared at the mage, unknowingly blushing.

"Then again, the prettiest apprentice standing with me," he grinned, "We all know there are some templars that secretly lust for beautiful mages."

Lust. Astrid wondered if living separate chaste lives lead to that faithful night in the chapel between her and Cullen, that lust had taken over. It was the only answer she could summon to why they had acted the way they had with one another; Cullen disobeying his vows and Astrid allowing him to take her innocence. If lust was all, why did she still feel guilty for wanting to be with Anders and for being seen with the mage when the young templar was around. Perhaps their childhood friendship made her feel responsible for comforting and being about happiness to her friend. The thought swept away the conscious moment as Anders' lips caressed hers softly and obediently as a simple goodnight kiss. She felt a whirlwind of emotions and simply stood doe-eyed as the mage grazed her cheek gently with his knuckles and charmed her with a smile.

"Tonight will be the last we practice, you must get your rest for the Harrowing my dear," he followed his words with a comforting kiss to her forehead she knew he had felt her tremble. She was suddenly more frightened then the day she had reached the age to begin her apprenticeship. Astrid was either three days from becoming a mage or being hacked down by Cullen, which only worsened the realization. "You will do perfectly well," Anders reassured her doubt, holding her to him as he spoke. "Now off to bed."

Anders playfully spun her around and pushed her towards the heavy door into her room, now completely dark except for a few flickering candles. She stepped across the doorway and smiled at him as she closed the door behind her with a heavy thump. Since her boots were less than salvageable, she left them by the door and immediately made a b-line to her bunk. The apprentice didn't bother to remove her robes, but instead stretched with a yawn and ripped back her covers. Easing into sleep would have been an easy process if she hadn't found a smirking elf already sprawled in her bed.

"Aren't you awfully past curfew?" she beamed, sitting up on her knees as Astrid slid into the empty space beside Myrah. The elf whom was more sister than friend, helped to tuck the tired apprentice into her bed and dutifully took the extra space beside her; as she had done many times when they were children. Astrid stared at the bottom of Myrah's bunk above her, bouncing slightly when the elf adjusted herself to be lying on her side. "What are you and Anders _really_ doing so late together?"

Astrid immediately blushed at her friend's imagination, whom was still unaware of her midnight romantics with Cullen. "Myrah, you know very well Anders and I have been practicing for my harrowing!" she felt there was no need to share her kisses with Anders to her friend as of yet.

"Oh Maker Astrid, you know the bloody mage has been making eyes at you," Myrah giggled. Astrid hushed her so that she would not awake any of the other apprentices they shared the room with. "Speaking of making eyes, the Templar Cullen asked me of you a few days ago."

The redhead turned to her long eared friend with coy interest, "Did he." Myrah was well aware that her and Cullen had built a unique friendship as apprentice and templar when he first came to the circle, fresh out of the chantry.

"It's no secret the templar secretly lusts for you Astrid, I've seen the way he looks at you, even more memorized than Anders. Some of the other apprentices have even mentioned it to me." Astrid rolled onto her side to face Myrah, she thought maybe now was the time to tell her the truth of her and Cullen.

"He is handsome is he not?" she eased into the conversation, watching as Myrah sat up and sighed with a smile.

"You two would make a lovely couple, but you know as well as I do that any relationship between a mage and templar is forbidden. Even if a templar and mage were to run away together, they could never live a normal life, now could they? They constantly have to keep caution and then what's the point? Love would not be blissful as it should be." Myrah had provided the answer Astrid had needed all along. The wondering and the doubting had been answered in all she had said. Her and Cullen were impossible. The guilt of no longer seeing him was satisfied with the logical solution that they were never meant to be, no matter what sort of feelings had developed between them.

Myrah fell back again into their shared pillow, "That is why I encouraged you to see Anders. There is no crime for one mage to love another, although not encouraged by the circle, you won't be Tranquilized over it." Astrid must have betrayed her feelings, for the elf forced her to sit up and gave her a comforting hug. "I just want you to be happy, for so long you've been nothing but a sad lonely mage. I want you to find love."

As Astrid accepted her friend's encouraging words, she couldn't help but wonder what love really meant to her.


	5. Harrowing Heart

**Author`s Note: Ok, so the next chapter helps bend the storyline to be more parallel with DA:O, but not entirely. As you can tell, a few scenes have been mixed up and changed, but not that much. Just a bit of character swapping. I'm excited to start writing some of the parts that actually happen in the game, but from an entirely different point of view then what you get in the game. This is late because I've been obsessing over DA 2 lately, lol. I still get that giddy chill from the ending, aren't I cool. Well, hopefully this chapter helps mend all those terrible plot holes I noticed.**

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><p>IV. HARROWING HEART<p>

"Cullen, would you please go with Knight-Commander Hadley to retrieve the apprentice Amell?" Whenever Greagoir asked him to undertake a certain task it always sounded more of a demand rather than an answerable question. With a choking nod the templar left with his long-time friend to bring the apprentice to her Harrowing, a day he had dreaded since he was first informed a fortnight ago. Although he had seen very little of her since their coupling in the closet, Cullen couldn't bring himself to stop himself from going to the chapel every night since then. In hopes that Astrid would return to him. It was enraging, when he did see her, smiling and sitting close to that fugitive mage at mealtimes. Sometimes unbearable, and he would have to force himself away from the mess-hall so that he could clear his head. Since their separation, Cullen had come to realize he cared deeply for the apprentice. It wasn't just lust, but something far more forbidding.

The Harrowing Chamber was in the distance now and the patterned clunking of their armor sounded their appearance as they made their way through the templar quarters, the floor closest to the Harrowing Chamber. Most of the floor was open save for a few templars in training and those assigned to today's harrowing, the others were scattered about the other three floors of the tower. Cullen and Hadley descended the stone stairs at a matching pace, still floors away from reaching the apprentice quarters where Astrid was waiting to be summoned. It was agonizing, knowing he would be escorting her to the chamber, without the privacy of wishing her luck or even encouragingly hugging her. Cullen assumed this being his first Harrowing, traditional protocol required novices to have another templar with them. He was at least a little thankful it was Hadley and not Godric or Mathias, both whom had always commented on Astrid's alluring appearance.

They'd reached the mage quarters by now, passing the First Enchanter as he made his way to the Harrowing Chamber. "Poor old man, he knows that the harrowings haven't gone over too well the last few apprentices," Hadley said to Cullen, which brought little comfort in his confidence in Astrid's impending test. He must have given away his worry, for Hadley stopped him in the corridor and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Cullen, I realize you and this mage-to-be are closer than the norm," the second Knight-Commander spoke sternly, furrowing his brows to add seriousness to his next statement. "Do I need to worry you might hesitate if it occurs that you must cut her down?"

Cullen realized he had spent the majority of the walk worrying about whether Astrid would pass or not, but had forgotten what happened to an apprentice when they failed their Harrowing. Again the endless dread he had felt before consumed him, why had he been chosen for her Harrowing? But Hadley's grip on his shoulder seemed to grow warningly stronger and the young templar found himself masking the pain of his duty, "If the apprentice becomes an abomination, I will kill her." He purposely added the sting to the statement to convince his superior that he was still loyal to the chantry, even if he had soiled his vows.

Convinced of his loyalty, Hadley patted the templar's shoulders in accepting his answer and carried on ahead of Cullen. He couldn't bring himself to move just yet as the reality of today began to settle and it scared him. What if Astrid did succumb to a demon? Could he really bring himself to stake her through the heart? Still in an act, he quickly hustled to follow Hadley down the final set of stairs and into the main floor. The Apprentice Quarters was busy with the apprentices themselves, all at work with various tasks of which Cullen was unsure. Hadley stopped at a doorway, which Cullen had already knew to be that of Astrid's shared room. The Knight Commander motioned for the younger templar to make the entrance, to which he reluctantly did so. First he knocked and then he turned the knob to the room, he set his eyes immediately on her bunk, which he knew to be Astrid's already as well.

And there she was, sitting on the bottom bunk in the company of another apprentice, the same elf he had seen her with many times. The elf noticed him first, immediately recognizing him upon eye contact; Cullen had once asked her for Astrid's whereabouts when he noticed she was avoiding him and hanging around the other mage. When Cullen had yet to say something, Hadley followed him through the doorway and made their appearance known. "Miss Amell?" Astrid looked up from the ground she had been staring warily at and Cullen could tell she had little sleep. Her usually bright eyes were encircled with dark lines and her lids were only half open as she looked at the templars. "It is time," the Knight-Commander went on to say, making his way out of the room.

The elf apprentice walked Astrid to Cullen, giving him a concerned stare as she did. "You cut her down templar, you better be merciful about it," she hissed as Astrid left the room without so much a glance at Cullen. The templar soaked in the elf's words and gave her a sincere nod, to which she nodded back and returned to the heart of the room.

He left the room and met Hadley with Astrid in the busy corridor. "Well take her to the chamber Cullen, I have other business that needs attending to." And with so little of a farewell the Knight-Commander left for the lobby, leaving Cullen alone with the apprentice.

"Lets get this over with, shall we?" she murmured in a sheepish voice, it was becoming more and more obvious she had little to none sleep the night before. Cullen watched her force a smile and then turn to follow the corridor to the stairway. He promptly followed her, pacing side by side with nothing to say to one another. It was frustrating that he couldn't bring himself to comfort her, or to even say a single word to her. Their time apart had definitely build a wedge between the pair.

So in silence they had walked, until they had reached the Great Hall. "Astrid," the calling voice stopped both in their tracks and the templar turned to see the familiar face of _that_ mage. The trouble mage known as Anders crept to the pair nearly breathless and focused solely on the young apprentice. "Please templar, may I have a word with her?"

Cullen glanced at Astrid, who was looking at him in a pleading manner; of course he caved for her. "Only a moment mage."

He walked away, barely in ear-shot of the mages, but still in his line of vision. Cullen watched on eagerly to know what would happen, but was pained to watch her smile happily at another. As much as he had wanted to deny her to see Anders, he feared it would result in Astrid hating him, if she didn't already. As he looked on, the templar was stoned as the mage embraced the apprentice and delicately pressed a kiss to her dry lips. Envy devoured him and Cullen found himself seconds away from impaling the mage with his sword repetitively, but as Anders pulled away, Astrid made her way back to Cullen. She passed him in an enlightened mood, ready to ascend the final two floors to her final test.

It was on the stairway to the templar floor that Cullen had to ask, "What did the mage want fr- from you?"

Astrid stopped on the stairs by his question, turned bewildered by his question. "He wanted to wish me good luck Cullen, what else?"

"But he- he kissed you," it was then he realized Astrid wasn't aware he had been watching them closely. "You already let him k- kiss you."

"Cullen please, not now..." she begged, trying to take the steps two at a time. However, Cullen grabbed onto her wrist to hold her in place. "Cullen, let go!" He felt her wriggle under his strength, but made little effort other than that to free herself.

"Have you been intimate with him?" his stuttering had seized, which was common when he conversed with Astrid and even sometimes when he was frustrated; such as now.

Astrid was suddenly flustered, "No. He hasn't touched me like-"

"Like what?" Cullen growled, feeling suddenly possessive.

"Like you did, what do you think Cullen?" she retorted darkly, stepping up to him defiantly. "But I want him to."

At that Cullen pushed her into the wall, suddenly enraged. She clearly couldn't understand how much she meant to him, how much he longed for her touch again. It was upsetting to know she had developed intimate feelings for the mage, after all they had done. Bloody mage, Cullen loved her. Astrid fought his grip against her, just as angered as he was. "You and I can never be Cullen, you of all people should understand that." And then his rough hold on her loosened, allowing the apprentice to wiggle free from his dominating position over her. Cullen listened as she escaped a few steps ahead of him, "You know I'm right."

As always, he thought. Defeated, Cullen pressed past her to continue the venture to the Harrowing Chamber. First Knight-Commander Greagoir was waiting in the center of the chamber, where as the First Enchanter was by the entrance ready to lead Astrid to the test. Cullen lingered by the entrance for a moment, trying to accept Astrid's rejection. But when Greagoir called him into the chamber, he knew that the reality of being a templar was about to come into play. He joined the circle of templars in the chamber, although he was solely chosen to give the killing blow should she return an abomination or remain in the fade for too long. Astrid was approaching the table of lyrium, seconds from entering the fade.

If Cullen wasn't mistaken, she looked back at him, a single tear running down her cheek before she entered the fade.

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><p>Astrid sat-up in a cold sweat and in an unfamiliar place, she felt the tingle of panic as she ran the palm of her hand down her face. She was dressed in a loose, thin tunic of a dark blue dye, which was just as unfamiliar as the large bed she was sitting in. It was dark, spare the few candles about the vanity and other tables, which meant it was probably the dark of night outside the tower. Flustered and confused, Astrid moved to leave the bed,but found herself tripping over the make-shift bed of another. She hit the ground and immediately felt her body ache, just as someone was springing themselves to their feet. "Oh Maker's breath, you're fine Astrid!" There was no mistaking the voice to be that of the meek elf Myrah, whom helped Astrid to her feet and back into bed with little resistance. "You did it Astrid," the elf was saying happily as she rolled about to make herself comfortable in the extra space she had never had before, "You're a full-fledged mage now!"<p>

"Mage..." Astrid moaned, vaguely remembering anything since entering the Harrowing Chamber. However, that would explain why her body ached thoroughly and she could feel her magic more vibrantly as it flowed inside herself. It was empowering, the magic trapped from apprenticeship was now free from its confinement and at her disposal as a mage. The emotional stir of her newfound magic made her dizzy and even more flustered as she laid on her back, trying to stop the spinning of the room. Thankfully Myrah returned to her side with a gass of water and a cold cloth for her head, which was painfully throbbing the more awake she became. The elf sat at the edge of her bed, helping Astrid shakily gulp the water down.

"Irving and the other mages are so happy," Myrah cheerfully whispered, "Of course, the apprentices are all relieved too. We all thought ourselves to be doomed."

The new mage had yet to wrap herself around the concept she had passed her Harrowing, the heart-wrenching and terrifying test for her life. She tried to remember her experience in the fade, but everything still remained fuzzy and a blur. Myrah went back to a basin and poured another glass of water for Astrid, who was conscious enough to sit-up now.

"They said your Harrowing was the shortest they'd ever seen? Can you imagine that," the elf began to untangle the quilts and feathered pillows on the ground. "But when you left the fade, they said you were a little queasy, the templar Cullen had to carry you to your room."

"This isn't our room..." Astrid muttered, trying to watch Myrah through the candlelight.

"No, this is your room now," the elf placed the sleeping things at the foot of Astrid's bed and beamed proudly at her friend. "You're a mage now, we'll be living separately now."

Astrid was still surprised, "Isn't that your quilt?"

"Well yes, the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander allowed me to stay with you until you gained consciousness and now you have." She gently patted the mage on the knee and gathered her quilts and pillows in her arms. "I must leave now Astrid, but I will see you in the morning."

She was ready to protest, to beg Myrah to stay and answer a few questions; but there was a soft rapping at the door and the elf skipped to answer the call. It almost looked as if the apprentice glowed with happiness as she pushed the door further open and allowed a sandy blond mage to enter the room. It was none other than Anders of course, which was nearly embarrassing for him to see her in such an discombobulated way. Astrid removed the cold cloth from her forehead and moved up on the bed, smiling as he closed the door gently behind Myrah and then crossed the room to where she rested.

"Fancier than the apprentice quarters, eh?" he cheerly boasted before standing at her side by the bed, "And you even have your own room."

As relieving it was to know she wouldn't have to share a room with a dozen others anymore, the absence of Myrah was all too terrible suddenly. Years of sharing a bunk seemed meaningless until Astrid went on to pass her Harrowing and was now in a bed amongst the mage quarters. Suddenly she felt lonely. Known to be emotionally presentable, she felt the bed sink and Anders cover her hand with his.

"You'll get use to it," he grinned. She felt the gentle stroking of his thumb across the surface of her hand and it was surprisingly soothing, especially when her entire body was screaming for relief. "And I'm sure if you ask nicely, the templar will let you have sleepovers."

She chuckled, but just barely before her side ached, "If only her harrowing was sooner."

"But it is," Anders suddenly quipped. She sprung her head up in attention and intense surprise, which caused the mage to furrow his brows. "Didn't you know?"

"No, she...she never said anything." Astrid wondered if by spending all her time with Anders as of lately had caused her to neglect her dearest friend, and for something that was just as important for her.

The mage wrapped his arms about her shoulders and rubbed her arm just as softly as before, and as if he had been waiting all too eagerly, he leaned in to kiss her. It was a nice kiss, careful and soft. The sort of comforting embrace she had ached for since she woke, and who was better to deliver the kiss than Anders. He cupped her face and Astrid felt passion erupt between them as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressed against one another. The feeling of his body beneath the dark robes was unfamiliar and very different from her previous lover, almost intimidating. How, she couldn't tell, but the magical flare she had once felt with Cullen was all but dead with Anders. However, she could feel his magic channeling through her; and it was bold and passionate. Anders lips fell away from hers and he did that half-grin she loved, that pulled at her heart.

"I've never cared for someone before," he muttered, "I've always been more concerned with how I would escape the circle this time." Anders kissed her again, but only barely. "Almost makes me want to stay."

"Almost?" Astrid whispered. But no answer was to be had.

The heavy thumping of a fist beat on the door and Anders immediately replanted himself away from the new mage, whom had subconsciously wished he hadn't left her side without a response. The door opened barely enough for a templar, none other than Cullen, to squeeze through. Astrid recognized the initial look of shock on the templar's face, before it was quickly replaced with the stern narrowing of eyebrows. "No more visitors," he nearly hissed. She glanced between the men, Anders not ready to move and Cullen trying to keep his temper in check.

"You're here, why?" Anders probed, crossing his arms with a suspicious sneer.

However, Cullen's disgust with the mage never seemed to falter, "Knight-Commander Greagoir asked I check on Astrid."

"I wasn't aware that templars knew the names of mages other than the First Enchanter?" Anders disgust for circle life was all but too obvious as he pointed out that Cullen had addressed Astrid by her name. Astrid looked back at Cullen, whom began to fumble with an answer to the mage; his stuttering was a terrible give-away.

"It's okay Anders," she touched him gently on his arm and briefly smiled, "the templar and I have known each other for many years." Her answer only seemed to cool Anders to a minimum, whom was still loathing the templar from a distance in the dark. She tugged on his sleeve to pull him back beside her, "It's okay." Astrid whispered to him again, kissing him too, hoping it would damper any threatening thoughts he may have conjured.

He pulled away a little flustered, but was at least willing to leave her alone with Cullen now. The mage kissed her temple and left for the doorway. Cullen side stepped to avoid brushing shoulders with Anders, whom made no attempt to hide his glowering glare as he left the chamber. Now alone, which hadn't been a good thing prior, Astrid sunk back into the heavy feathered pillow on her bed.

Once he had felt the hostile atmosphere evaporate from Astrid's room, she watched as he padded noisily to her bedside and slunk down at the furthest end away from her. He had fixated himself to stare at the stone flooring, knowingly avoiding her curious and worried eyes; she hadn't seen Cullen so lost in thought before, at least not so seriously. Especially after what occurred between them before her Harrowing, she hadn't expected Cullen to be so peaceful when he approached her tonight. It was almost disappointing. "I- I am s- sorry." His stuttering was beyond causing her heart to ache, she felt the urge to burst into tears. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with y- you," he went on to mutter, nearly burying his face between his palms.

"Cullen we can never be together." Her bluntness even caught her surprised, but Astrid knew it had to be said. "There's no future for a mage and a templar together," she scoffed and turned to see he was viewing her with a broken gaze. Astrid knew it was for the best to end whatever they had, and now. "Your a good templar Cullen," she praised, "And a great man."

If he had been closer, Astrid would have reassured her comment with a gentle touch, to his hand or shoulder; but Cullen had purposely distant himself to avoid the obvious temptation of her touch. "What friend would I be to let you jeopardize your life as a templar for pure lust."

Cullen tensed, unnoticed by Astrid, but enough that his usually comfortable armor was now digging annoyingly into his skin. "Lust," he grimaced. It was clear she never understood that it was so much more to him than the passionate nights together, Astrid meant something to him. She wasn't just a mage, he saw her as the woman he'd always dreamt of. Unable to listen to the rest of her rejection, the young templar moved to his feet and left for the door. He saw her smile as he glanced back, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same.


	6. Fire and Ice

**Author`s Note: I'm gonna try something different in my chapters, which I started in the last chapter. Instead of every other chapter being some ones point of view, I'm just going to tackle them together sectioned off, like the chapter before. Tis so much easier, yes? This chapter took forever too because it's one of those filler chapters, so it's not all that great, but things pick-up in the next chapter.**

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><p>VI. FIRE AND ICE<p>

Cullen woke plagued by the night's dreams, hot and sinful. He opened it eyes half expecting to see a desire demon straddling him, but there were no demons to blame for the out of reach fantasy. Sweat beaded across his forehead and bare chest, and he hungered for the flesh of the mage. She had called it lust. Lechery had been the fiend behind the rhythmic pounding of his love making to her, not the ache in his heart whenever he thought of her. Astrid had made a fool of him by rejecting any possibility simply as a templar's curiosity in the opposite sex. He knew very well the danger of mingling with a mage, and even then he was willing to take the chance. At least half willing that was. In all honesty, he couldn't be sure if he was willing to ruin years of training for a woman; especially when the others made a habit of talking about beautiful ladies outside the circle. But Astrid was different, she had made a place in his heart unintentionally and it was now shattering in small fragments from last night's conversation.

"Enough with her," he growled and rolled into a sitting position. The young templar wiped the sweat from his brow with a discarded shirt on the ground and sighed, unknowingly in the company of both Mathias and Godric. They stood waiting to be noticed by their peer, whom was still shaking his head and trying to dry himself.

Finally Godric gave in, "Her, eh? Who would've thought Cullen got his mind wrapped around some girl." The introduction of another voice in the room caught Cullen completely out of his element, as he tried to dress himself and mask any evidence of a wet dream. He mumbled and stumbled with his words, unable to undo the damage as the boys laughed in unison.

"'Bout time Cullen, we thought we might have lost you to the chantry," Mathias piped in, patting Cullen amusingly on the shoulder.

"So whose the lucky girl? One of the sisters? A girl from childhood?" Neither Mathias or Godric left him alone as he clothed himself and began to place his armor on, fidgeting more so than he ever had. "Oh I know, it's one of them mage girls here?"

"A m-mage?" Cullen sputtered, dropping his gauntlets. This was bad, this was very bad. If either of them learned of Astrid, she'd be sent to be made tranquil and he, well who knows what would happen to him. The templar attached his gauntlets with what little calmness he could muster, "Surely you're joking?"

He turned on his heel, faking a look of disgust by the idea; and by the maker it worked. Mathias shrugged and shared a wandering look with Godric, "Hey some of them mage girls can be desirable." They crossed their arms, which was usually uncomfortable with the bulging of their armor, awaiting a further response from Cullen.

"Sure, if you get over the magic," he answered with further falseness.

"Poor wenches," Godric sighed, "If they hadn't been born with magic they'd probably be all happily settled down about now."

Cullen observed cautiously as he strapped his sword about his waist and checked the mirror for any necessary adjustments in his armor.

"Anyways, we're only here cause Hadley needs to talk with ya," announced Mathias, before nodding at Godric towards the doorway. The duo gave Cullen an acknowledgeable nod and left his room.

The templar walked back to his bed and sunk down, he sighed with relief and finally inhaled. He surprisingly was able to overcome his stuttering and fool his friends, without so much as giving away any glimpse of guilt. None the less, it was a close call, for Cullen wasn't usually this unnerved when caught in a lie or in some terrible plan. He usually panicked, massacred his words, and in some cases, fled the scene. But lying wasn't going to be so hard now that Astrid was no longer solely his, if she ever had been in the first place. It was over and that's all he needed to know for now.

In one deep huff, Cullen returned to his feet and left the room for Hadley's office, which was conjoined with the Knight-Commander's office as well. He silently prayed that Hadley was merely congratulating him on a successful Harrowing, where no mage was going to loose their head; and then he could be off to enjoy the rest of his morning eating breakfast. Hopeful, he approached the office and found the door already open, with a hard focused Hadley working on paperwork. He entered the room silently, catching the templar off guard. "There you are," he said in a friendly manner.

"I was told to speak with you Ser?" Cullen replied, taking a seat when Hadley had gestured so with his hand.

"Indeed you were," Hadley began, "You'll be attending another Harrowing tomorrow."

The templar's face couldn't have looked more perplexed as Hadley nonchalantly paced across the office to replace a leather bound book on the shelf. The senior templar looked back at Cullen, whom was still staring a ghastly at the floor. "After yesterdays successful Harrowing," the templar began while re-approaching his broad wooden desk, worn from years of use. "The Knight-Commander was rather impressed with your composure, thought it would be best to have you attend another one."

Composed? Cullen? Surely the Knight-Commander had confused him for another templar, he couldn't even begin to describe how hard his heart was pounding every second she spent in the fade. And when she finally returned unconscious, it took every ounce of his will to prevent himself from running to her side. It was terrible, her ragged breathing and abnormal pale complexion, all things First Enchanter Irving had disregarded as a side-effect of the fade.

When he was ordered to carry her back to her room, he hesitated at first, trying not to appear overly eager as he was. Astrid was light and motionless in his arms, not very reassuring, but he had to believe Irving. Her robes were ripped from obvious confrontation and a few signs of bruising and scraps on her exposed limbs. A mage had been waiting for them, directing the templar to where Astrid's new room would be. Cullen carefully displayed her on the comfort of her own bed, gently shimming her beneath the heavy quilt to cover her cold body. Subconsciously he began to touch her face, softly since he was wearing his gauntlets, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from her face. She moved as he did that and finally Cullen breathed a sigh of relief, only to catch his breath when she spoke in her sleep. "Cullen..." she whimpered.

"Cullen?" The templar looked back at Hadley, whom was crossly looking down at him, "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine Ser, I'll be ready for the Harrowing tomorrow." Cullen stood up from his chair and excused himself from Hadley's office.

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><p>The next afternoon, Astrid wandered her way back to the apprentice quarters where she hoped to find Myrah. When she entered the chamber that use to be her room, she heard the vibrant whispers of former roommates seize as she turned to them, and they scattered before she could even say hello. The mage never realized how quickly a kindness became a rivalry when one passed her Harrowing; at least not with those she had considered her friends. All her former roommates stared, even glared, as she passed them. For the first time she felt out of place and insecure. Thankfully the elf she seek was making her bed, and alone. Astrid tried to ignore the isolation of her former fellow apprentices, and focused on why she came to see Myrah in the first place.<p>

"Myrah," she breathed hesitantly, half expecting her best friend to give her the same cold shoulder as the others. But Myrah proved she was different and greeted Astrid happily with both a smile and an one armed hug, for she was holding dirty sheets in the other arm.

"How are we feeling Miss Mage?" the elf poked fun, pulling her favorite purple quilt back up the bed and over the twin feather pillows. She turned back to Astrid with that same toothy grin as she sat down, pulling her by the hand to sit with her on the bunk they once shared. "When I saw you last, you could barely sit-up let alone stand."

"If mine now, I was eager to get out of bed and talk to you." After Anders had told her, and not Myrah herself, that her own Harrowing was impending; Astrid wasn't sure how to bring up the topic, especially if the elf had kept it a secret for a reason.

Myrah gave Astrid a piqued eyebrow and a very elvish sly grin, "Oh, did something happen with the dreamy mage?" Leave it to her favorite elf to ask for details right off the bat.

"None that I wouldn't rush here to tell you soon after it happened my friend," Astrid gave her a promising wink and the two giggled like they had many times before, it felt like the good old days. "No, I'm actually here cause Anders told me your Harrowing was coming up?"

"It is, it's tomorrow." Myrah patted Astrid on the knee and bounced back onto her feet, she made herself busy with re-folding her robes in her messy chest, whilst Astrid was left to share her surprise alone.

She shook her head in disbelief, "Myrah why didn't you tell me?" The apprentice shrugged her shoulders, her smile never faltering as she continued to fold her things in distraction. "I could have helped you, or- or you could have been getting help from Anders with me-"

"Astrid," she finally said to disrupt the now blabbering mage. Tossing her robe meaninglessly back into her chest, and plopped back down next to Astrid. She sighed, "I hadn't seen you so happy in years Astrid, I didn't want to interrupt the time you were having with him." The mage was struck with guilt and made no means of hiding it. Myrah clasped her hands reassuringly between her own two hands and beamed with good intentions, "I just want to see you happy."

"I am happy," she answered shyly, she hadn't realized the sort of effect Anders truly had on her. "But Myrah, your my best friend and no man can come between us."

"Well he could, but that would be all to naughty for you," she bantered, laughing loudly as Astrid flushed a deeper shade of red.

And the girls laughed as if they had never been separated as mage and apprentice, like this was still their shared bunk and Astrid wouldn't have to return to her lonely room all alone. The girls cherished the moment, as the mage decided to stick around and help Myrah with her tasks, although she was no longer required to do so. They spent the entire day together, way into the night, until Myrah was forced to kick her friend back to her room so that she could sleep properly before her Harrowing. Astrid left with a smile, but walking back to her room, she couldn't overcome the daunting feeling of something terrible about to happen.

Astrid found herself feeling eerily alone in her much bigger and private room, with a bed that could fit at least four others and a private bath. A bath which she comfortably took, soothing the aching muscles from her Harrowing, which she still had little to no memory off. When she was done, she robed herself and returned to her room, unaware someone was waiting patiently for her on the bed. He cleared his throat while she was sitting at the vanity, running a brush through her hair, which she dropped when she saw his reflection behind her in the mirror.

"You smell nice," Anders said in a cheeky manner from her bed side, failing to avert his eyes from her opening robe.

Astrid shyly covered herself, and stood up to approach him; grinning timidly as she did. He reached for her, cradling Astrid against him when she sat next to him on the bed. Anders' hand barely stroked the length of her damp back, taking his time to softly caress her spine; his other hand had turned her face to his, wet hair clinging to the curves of her cheeks. Suddenly that feeling of impending doom was swept away as he smiled and spoke, "You smell of roses...my favorite." Anders pulled her suddenly closer against him and kissed her, sending a cold chill down her back as he licked her bottom lip. It was different compared to their last kiss, she could feel he wanted more. The mage drew his lips away from hers, touching foreheads still, and sensually stroked her lips with his thumb. Astrid kissed the inside of his palm and leaned forward to press their lips together.

Anders skillfully avoided her lips and touched the edge of her mouth with a kiss, trailing his mouth along the curve of her jaw and down her neck. The young mage found herself tilting her head back for him, clutching at his robes for balance as he trailed his tongue down the expanse of her neck. At her collar bone he kissed her tenderly, brushing her robe off the shoulder as he carefully pushed her on her back. Astrid kept her eyes shut as he kissed her shoulder and his hand slipped along the fold of her robe, holding back what he most desired.

Her eyes fluttered open when he breathed along her bosom and she found herself imagining the azure blue eyes and honey colored locks of a templar looming over her, not Anders. Astrid froze and abruptly pushed against the mage, unable to rid the burning sensation of Cullen's touch from her mind as Anders surprisingly gave in to her refusal. She pulled her robe close and avoided the curious look he was giving her. "I'm sorry," she mouthed suddenly.

"It's perfectly alright," Anders said in a forced cheerfulness, taking one of her hands into his and bringing it to his lips. "When you are ready."

With little else for either of them to say, Anders kissed her goodnight on the forehead and left her quarters. Astrid felt her body blaze from almost being intimate with Anders as she had been with Cullen. Confused, she tucked herself beneath her quilt without bothering to change into her proper robes. The cool touch which was so familiar when she was with Anders had been smothered by her memories with Cullen, still pre-occuppying her dreams since she had stop seeing the templar.


	7. Right of Conscription

**Author`s Note: So this chapter is extremely long, but I didn't want to separate this scene into two parts, and I'm pretty proud of it. I want to thank everyone whose added this story to their favs, especially FlyingPigMonkey and Oxygen Pirate for their lovely reviews; you've all inspire me to continue this story and give it my all. And just a heads-up, I may be starting a Cousland story. I know there is plenty of them, but I think I have an idea that might help differ it from others. But it is still just an idea. One final thought, I was wondering what are songs that remind you of Dragon Age? I've found a few, but I want to make a playlist of songs that will help inspire me to write. Anyways...thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

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><p>VII. RIGHT OF CONSCRIPTION<p>

"Did you hear there was a Grey Warden in the tower?"

Astrid whom was sitting alone in the library, had been staring at the same book since she had sat at an isolated table within the room; not even the page had been turned. She yawned and covered her face with her hand, the young mage had skipped breakfast and was functioning on little sleep from last night; but that was the least of her worries. It was barely lunchtime and news of Myrah's Harrowing had yet to reach her, but the rumor of a Grey Warden had.

Of course the conversation was that of a few apprentices, all of which had made an effort to ignore Astrid's presence in the corner. So she listened from a distance, pretending to be interested in the page she had been staring at for hours. They spoke mostly in whispers, to avoid the strict ears of a Senior Enchanter in the library. However, Astrid was able to pick-up that the Grey Warden was looking for recruits. Odd, considering that a majority of the mages had already left for Ostagar; including Wynne, whom had been a mentor for both her and Myrah.

If a Grey Warden was here recruiting, it only meant that this blight was more real than anyone had anticipated. A part of Astrid feared she might be recruited, but she didn't know why. Why wouldn't she want to leave the walls of this prison? Surely Anders would be campaigning to be chosen as a recruit, if he wasn't already planning another escape. She then suddenly remembered what Anders had said to her the night of her Harrowing, 'Almost makes me want to stay.' Astrid sighed, he was definitely planning an escape and she didn't understand why. Life in the circle wasn't entirely as terrible as some said it was; with her new relationship with Anders it had actually only gotten better. She could only hope Anders felt the same.

"Hopefully the Warden will take one of those snitches."

She found herself listening to the apprentices again, although a little bit closer now. They had crouched closer together, which was unusual compared to their earlier whispering.

"I don't think we'll be that lucky," one male apprentice commented, slouching back in his chair and crossing his arms. The circle of apprentices all nodded and made noises of agreement.

"Still," said one of the females in the group, "Until he comes back from Ostagar we can't do anything."

That terrible churn in her stomach returned and it was becoming difficult for Astrid to try and conceal her interest in the corner as the apprentices' conversation was beginning to take a turn for the worst. They continued to whisper and she found herself catching details of some sort of plan, perhaps an escape? Astrid couldn't be sure and she couldn't be caught listening either; even as they would look around the library for any prying eyes, she kept her eyes glued to that same page. Only when she heard the word 'blood' did she look at one of the elf apprentices with them, but catching anymore details was nearly impossible when a mage came into the library and called for her.

The conspiring apprentices glowered at her from their table, oblivious to the fact she had overheard part of their conversation. It was actually mage apprentice Jowan that had come for her in the library, a closer friend of Myrah's than Astrid herself. Jowan had been in the tower only a few years longer than Myrah, since Astrid had been here as a wee child, and showed an over eagerness for becoming a mage; and soon. He seemed rather out of place looking for her, Astrid barely ever had a conversation with Jowan; she always felt he was hiding something. None the less, the young mage returned her unread book to the bookshelf and walked around the group of apprentices to follow Jowan into the hallway.

He appeared a bit nervous, unusual from his normal frustration from being an apprentice. "I spoke to Myrah earlier, but I can't seem to find her-"

"Myrah?" Astrid was astounded, Myrah had completed her Harrowing, but failed to see her? She looked at him a little bewildered, which only seemed to make him more nervous.

"You haven't seen her...," Jowan began to look a bit distraught and began to fidget with his hands, but Astrid was ignoring that. Why hadn't Myrah come to tell her, it was bothering her terribly. "I was sent to tell her Irving wanted to see her, but after that I couldn't find her."

"Wait, why do you need to speak with Myrah?" The mage put aside her worry to focus on the blabbing apprentice, whom had never shown such important interest in the elf before. He looked away shyly, trying to avoid telling the truth. Clearly he wasn't going to say anything, so Astrid sighed and tried her best to comfort the apprentice. "I'll go to Irving and ask where she might be, I'd go ahead and check the apprentice quarters if I were you Jowan."

Jowan nodded obediently and left for the apprentice floors, while Astrid turned to make a visit to the First Enchanter's office, but not before being distracted by the metallic clunking of an approaching man. She had never seen him before and didn't recognize his armor to be that of a templar's. The man had raven black hair pulled back in a leather band and thick trimmed beard of the same color; he was older, at least old enough to be her father; and there was a very composed and courageous air about him. Astrid assumed he had to be the rumored Grey Warden that had come to the circle. As he came closer to her in the hallway, he caught her eye and nodded kindly in her direction, to which she also nodded, before he disappeared into the library. She turned away from the library and began to make her way to the First Enchanter's office.

Although worried, Astrid felt relieved that Myrah had safely passed her Harrowing; but she needed to see the elf to be sure, there was just something odd about the way Jowan was acting. He was weird anyways, but she felt rather uneasy again; like the night before. She tried to wave it away, but as she climbed the circling stairway to the next floor, there was something still haunting her about the apprentices in the library and then Jowan's nervousness. Astrid climbed the final step and passed through the open doorway, across the entrance she spotted Owain chatting with another mage, but paid no mind to it as she stepped into the hallway of the floor.

Irving's office was only a few doors down the hall, but the young mage was suddenly hit with an obstacle. Cullen was readily on-guard in the hallway, standing tall and straight. Astrid knew she had to pass him and the awkwardness between them had yet to fizzle, but she needed to find Myrah no matter what. So she approached him, a daunting task, but he had yet to notice her; but she had definitely noticed him. Cullen had cleanly shaved and trimmed his golden tress of hair on his chin and about his head; which defined the definition of his facial features, both sharp and smooth. When she got closer, he turned at the approach of her footsteps and his templar-like sternness had faltered momentarily.

"Astrid," he breathed with a faint glimmer of a smile, not what she had expected from Cullen since she confronted him with their affair rather bluntly. Cullen took a small step closer to her when she stopped, keeping arms length away from him.

"I- I was looking for Myrah," she muttered, glancing down the hallway with a glimmer of hope to see the elf skipping in her direction. Astrid looked back at Cullen, he was nodding.

"I'm sure you want to congratulate her on her Harrowing," he replied, which seemed to unsettle her. "I was there for her Harrowing, she did rather well." Astrid's worry began to fade with another reassuring voice, especially from someone whom was there with her after. "Not as well as you, of course, but I- uh..." the templar nervously rubbed the back of her neck, the cool feeling of his gauntlets easing the heat rising to his cheeks.

Astrid smiled meekly, "I was told she went to speak with Irving, I was hoping to catch her there." She helped Cullen out of his fumbling, which he appreciatively smiled at her.

"Yeah, she was here earlier, but I'm afraid she already left." The mage sighed, her best friend of an elf wasn't suppose to be this hard to find; especially since Myrah was always loud and around, not secretive. She touched her hand to her brow, her head was beginning to pound from the frustration. "Irving asked her to show the Grey Warden to his room."

Cullen felt sympathy for Astrid, who sighed loudly again and smiled at least a little happily up at him. "I suppose I should head back down then," she said tiredly; the thought of climbing back through those spiraling steps was annoying. Astrid turned back to Cullen, who looked flustered, "Thank you Cullen."

He couldn't answer her, but again nodded and watched the sway of her back as she left. Astrid felt his eyes on her and it was a weird satisfaction she felt from it, and when she reminded herself of last night it only grew stronger. She walked back down the corridor, slugged up the stairway and found herself wandering through the main hall and back in the direction of the library. Perhaps the warden would be there and she could ask him where her friend might have disappeared off too for so long.

It was here she saw Anders from a distance approaching her. Astrid admitted to herself it was only a slight bit of a stress relief to feel his arms encircle her waist and then a gentle press of his lips to her mouth, easily Myrah had slipped from her mind. He smiling ear-to-ear and stroked her cheek comfortingly with her thumb, "You look worried my darling red head." She leaned into him, the strength of her worrying resolving in his arms; Astrid almost felt guilty for not thinking of Myrah anymore, but only almost. "Is this because of Myrah, she's quite alright. I was asked to check for injury immediately after her Harrowing."

Astrid looked up from resting her head on his shoulder and gave him a still worried look. He kissed her forehead and grinned, "No need to worry, she'll find you when she's ready Astrid."

She had spent all this time worrying, but not considering how Myrah might be feeling. Anders was right, she needed to give her time to adjust to being a mage. Astrid remembered herself how overwhelming it was to go from apprentice to mage, the sudden flaring of strengthened magic and the pain of physically being in the fade. She wished she could have been there immediately after the ordeal, as Myrah had been for her; at least Anders was there and apparently Jowan had been too.

"Have you eaten today?" the young mage looked at Anders with a cunning look, to which he chuckles quietly. "You can't lie to me, you look pale and I think I heard your stomach." Embarrassed she grabbed her stomach, trying to muffle any further noises it might possibly make, but Anders wasn't fooled. "Come on, dinner is probably being served."

The coupled dined with casual conversation, for once Anders wasn't complaining about the circle and the templars. It was nice and soon Astrid allowed herself to wait for Myrah to come to her, although she still was worried she hadn't seen her all day. Her thought returning to the subject, she also realized Jowan had never come to tell her whether he had found her himself. As soon as she had let it go, it was suddenly beginning to bother her again. New mage or not, Myrah always checked in with Astrid at least once a day, and always before dinner. Having zoned from their conversation, the mage noticed he was talking to himself.

"Should I go back to complaining about the circle," he jokingly asked her, but she was still focusing on something across the table. "Astrid?" he touched her shoulder and squeezed it.

Astrid shook her head and gently placed her eating utensils back on the wooden surface of the table, "No, somethings wrong." She looked back at Anders, "I must go and see Irving."

Before Anders could even reassure her that Myrah was alright, she had left the main hall and was skipping every other step as she moved quickly down a floor in the circle. She passed where she had previously shared words with Cullen, whom was probably elsewhere now, and towards the closed doorway of the first enchanter's office. Astrid didn't even knock as she bustled into the office, startling Irving and another man with him.

"First Enchanter, I must speak to you immediately...please," the young mage wasn't aware how breathless she was from moving so quickly through the tower to where she stood leaning against the doorway for support. Irving, grey and wise as she had always known him to be, raised a curious thick brow at her and turned to his company; the man Astrid had noticed by the library earlier.

"I'm sorry Duncan," the senior mage spoke with his old vocals, surprised by the man's unconcerned wave of his hand.

"No need Irving," he nodded at her again, "I hope you don't mind me asking if this is the young lady you mentioned prior-" The man addressed at Duncan hesitated to embarrass her by mentioning her very rude entrance, to which she was suddenly shameful of and was nearly close to turning on her heals and coming back later.

The old mage nodded and loosely crossed his arms, "She is indeed. Astrid, this is the Grey Warden Duncan, I introduced him earlier to your friend Myrah and asked her to show him his room."

"We met briefly," Astrid answered in a low voice. She left the doorway and came closer to Irving, whom was standing behind his desk with the Grey Warden. "Ser please, I must know where Myrah is."

"You haven't seen our dear Myrah?" Irving's frosty brows knitted together in puzzlement and he moved to sit at his desk in a particularly worried manner.

"No," her eyes wandered to the floor, "I know her, she would have seen me by now. Jowan told me-"

The First Enchanter let out a groan, "Jowan? What did Jowan say?" Irving's interest in the awkward apprentice sent a crawling chill up her back and she struggled to answer him without begging for a reason why.

"He found me in the library, asked if I'd seen her after talking with you," she watched as Irving exchanged a glance with the warden, whom seemed rather eager to add a detail to the mystery.

"I must say that when Myrah left me to my room, a man was waiting for her, could this be the Jowan you speak of?" Duncan directed his comment to Irving, which only seemed to worry the old mage more.

Irving left his desk and paced his office, stroking the length of his curly beard as he returned to his desk. "It is as I fear then," was all he said, little to no answer for Astrid. Astrid began fidgeting nervously, and the fears she had put aside because of the comfort of others was creeping back. "I must find Greagoir, this matter needs to be brought to his attention." The senior mage reached for his staff propped against the back wall, something Astrid had known to be unusual for the First Enchanter to carry around casually like the other mages. "I'm sorry Duncan, but it would appear our discussion of recruits must be post-poned."

The Grey Warden held up his hand again, "I understand Irving, I'll be in my room when you need me." Duncan began to approach the door, but stopped to comfortably squeeze Astrid on the shoulder. "I'm sure everything is fine with your friend." He sounded fatherly, if that was what fatherly sounded like, Astrid wasn't sure haven been raised her entire life here; Astrid mouthed a thank-you as she watched him leave the office.

Irving gestured Astrid towards the doorway, his staff clutched firmly in his other hand as they walked into the corridor. The mage didn't bother to lock his office, but avidly began to lead the young mage towards the templar quarters. She had never been on the floor, except for the time Cullen was escorting her to her Harrowing, which was the floor above the templar quarters. As they passed the rooms, she secretly wondered which of them might be Cullen's and whether he shared it with another templar. The thought nearly caused her to blush, what was she thinking? Covering her face slightly with her hand, she followed Irving around the bend and towards an open doorway.

A templar stepped out of the doorway and was surprised to see the mages, "F-First Enchanter," his eyes flickered across Astrid. She was sure Cullen was nervous from haven coincidently bumped into her for the second time today, it was apparent in his stumbling speech. "Uhm, Greagoir is in his office," he stepped aside to allow Irving pass, but not before the old mage stopped her from following him any further.

"Young man will you please escort Astrid back to her room," the First Enchanter made it clear that Astrid's presence was no longer necessary for whatever task was at hand.

"Ser please-" He held a hand up to hush her and sighed.

"I'm sorry, but you must leave this to the Knight-Commander and I to handle," he leaned on his staff momentarily, "the situation is far too dangerous for a new mage such as yourself."

"Dangerous? Irving please-" but out of character, Cullen suddenly swept Astrid away in his arms and back towards the stairway she came. Of course she wriggled about in his arms and maybe even kicked him a few times, but the templar never let her go, and Astrid was amazed by his strength.

It wasn't until he had carried her through the mostly deserted main hall that she stopped being complicated and walked side-by-side with him, with Cullen keeping a loose grip on her arm just incase. He lead her to her own room and opened the door for her, which she tiredly thanked him for over her shoulder before dragging her feet towards the bed. Astrid slouched at the edge, caught off guard when a tear streamed down her face. She quickly wiped it away, but was met with a few more streaking down her cheeks.

"Astrid..." Cullen called to her, placing himself closer to her on her bed, unlike the night prior. He felt a strong desire to comfort her and cautiously placed an arm around her shoulders.

Astrid felt the weight of his gauntlet around her and she instinctively leaned against his arm, still trying to stop herself from crying. "She has to be okay Cullen," she whimpered into his arm, grabbing his hand and holding it closely in her palm. "She's the only family I have," the tears were more frequent now as she feared the worst for Myrah, whom was the closest thing she had for family. The young mage sobbed into her former lover, unable to ignore the desire to throw her arms around him completely. And from the way he tensed, she only assumed he felt the same way.

She tilted her head to look at Cullen, the templar was watching her closely in fret and appeared to be moving closer to her as she was to him. Soon she felt his hot breath on her face, smelling of mead and something rather minty. They were so close again, nose-to-nose as she tilted her head more and barely closed her eyes. Surely he would have kissed her too, if she hadn't overheard the loud rally of armor running on the other side of her door. Reluctantly pulling away, she leapt for the door and swung it open to catch the last templar leave around the corner. Astrid immediately followed after them, ignoring the call of her name from Cullen as she scaled down the stairway into the first floor.

There was a commotion of voices and the awakening sound of a blast, she listened to the arguings of those in the opening, and waited to make her appearance. After a few seconds of catching her breath, Astrid stepped into the open room and was winded by the sight of a familiar face: none other than Myrah herself. Irving was on the ground, the elf kneeling to his aid, and the Knight-Commander was shouting nonsense at another woman in the room. It was still all very vague what they were saying, the acoustics of the room terribly planned, so the young mage warily approached the fallen templars yards away. As she moved forward, Cullen had caught up to her and held her back from interfering with the Knight-Commaneder's speech to Myrah.

Being held back by the templar, she was able to notice the sudden appearance of the Grey Warden, whose introduction into the conversation only made the Knight-Commander even more enraged. Astrid listened to him yell and she begged Cullen for an answer, "Whats going on?"

"The Grey Warden is recruiting her Astrid," Cullen answered calmly into her ear, as she slunk against him and fell to her knees. Recruited? The templar knelt beside her, trying to keep the faint Astrid awake as the final decision of Myrah's fate was decided. Myrah was following the Grey Warden back to the corridor, but not before meeting the gaze of her best friend in disbelief. Astrid felt herself begin to cry.

Exhausted from the worry and being scared, mixed with the guilt of letting go of her suspicions of Jowan, Astrid was floating in and out of consciousness where she sat on the cold ground. She reached to hold onto Cullen's armor for support and hazily glanced up to see a terrified Myrah extending her hands out for the weary mage to hold onto instead; and she did. Slowly Astrid rose back to her feet, swaying into the templar still at her side, but still holding onto Myrah's hands desperately. "Ser, I must ask you to allow me some time to speak and say goodbye to my friend," the elf squeezed Astrid's hands and she continued to cry, dipping her head down into Cullen's plated chest.

"I will wait for you by the entrance when you are ready." Duncan left them by what Astrid now recognized was near the basement and was soon followed by Irving and the Knight-Commander, who was still blazing with rage as he passed Myrah and her.

"Will you please help me carry her to our old room?" Astrid looked up at Cullen hopefully, as Myrah asked for his help. He answered her with a slow nod and circled her waist with one arm, while the elf had Astrid place an arm around her neck.

Together, the mage and the templar walked with the staggering Astrid to the room they once shared growing up and found the bunk they had only a few nights before playfully fought who got to sleep on the top. Cullen helped her down, while Myrah stood nervously aside. He didn't say anything to either of them, but left the room with the door closed behind him. Astrid inhaled deeply and looked up at her friend for an answer she so desperately seeked, but Myrah nearly smiled, "You didn't eat today did you?"

Astrid couldn't help but smile too, although she was still frustrated. "Myrah, where have you been all day? W- what happened just now?" The young mage who had managed to stop crying now, wiped at her face with her sleeve and shook her head.

"I...," Myrah sighed and sat down beside Astrid, looping their arms together as they always had many times before. "I was trying to help a friend," she finished. Myrah turned to look for Astrid's reaction, but was met with none. So she went on, "Jowan found a woman he loved here in the circle, but she was of the chantry and him an apprentice."

The mage looked at Myrah with all the interest in the world, this story was all too familiar for her. "Jowan? With a sister?"

"An initiate actually, Lily was her name," the elf answered her, still smiling just the slightest to keep Astrid comforted. "He asked if I could help him destroy his phylactery so they could run away together."

"Did it work?" Astrid whispered, leaning her head tiredly against Myrah's shoulder, breathing in deeply.

"We found it and he destroyed it," Myrah was whispering now too, "but when we left the basement, Irving and the templars were there." Astrid felt a pain of guilt, for Irving's involvement was surely inspired by her coming to him earlier. And when the elf had squeezed her hand, somehow the mage felt as if maybe Myrah already knew that. "And then I saw the mistake I had made," she turned to Astrid and was beginning to cry. "Jowan is a blood mage Astrid."

Her heart felt as if it had dropped into her stomach and instead of allowing herself to be comforted by Myrah, Astrid sat-up and returned the favor. Astrid pressed the elf's head against her shoulder, careful not to uncomfortably tuck her long ear or pull on her long dark hair. "You always look for the good in people Myrah, don't blame yourself for what has happened," the mage felt Myrah choke, and watched from the corner of her eye as she quickly wiped away tears.

"If the Grey Warden hadn't interfered, I'd be on my way to the gallows," Myrah scarcely murmured, and hugged Astrid. "I'm to leave for Ostagar immediately, and I'm going to join he wardens."

Astrid vigorously shook her head, "There must be another way, I'm sure Irving can talk to the Knight-Commander and you- you can stay." The thought of losing her best friend, the only other person that could ever understand her seemed almost far worst than knowing she could be sentenced to death. To be living, but forever apart without knowing what the other was doing was a painful concept. Myrah withdrew herself from Astrid and carefully shook her head.

"This is my destiny Astrid, I must go with the Grey Warden," the elf moved away from the bed and was kneeling at her trunk, beginning to dig through it. She returned with something in her hand, an item Astrid had never known the elf mage to have.

Myrah was smiling again, but it was different, it wasn't cheerful and gay like her norm; her smile was almost mournful and hopeful at the same time. She presented it Astrid, a pendant made from glass and gems, in the shape of an elegant leaf. On the chain was a unique ring, made of carefully curved twigs with a serious of jewels beaded through; it was a craft that Astrid wasn't even aware was plausible. "This was my mother's wedding ring, she use to belong to the Dalish," Myrah spoke with a pride the other mage had never known the elf to harbor.

"But when she met my father, they exiled her from their clan and she left with my father to the city. However, my father was human and therefore was expected to marry a human woman, so he had to leave her in the Alienage." This had been the first time Myrah had openly spoke of her family without side-stepping the topic, it made Astrid wonder why she hid this from her for so long. "My father often visited me, but his marriage to another woman only seemed to make my mother angry...with me. When it was apparent I had magic, she didn't even hesitate to turn me in to the templars," Astrid touched her arm and encouragingly smiled at her. "My father was furious with my mother for giving me up, he said he would have hired me and hid me away, but it was too late. So, before I left," Myrah held the necklace between her hands and placed it gracefully around Astrid's neck. "He made me this pendant and gave me this ring that was given to her by her Dalish betrothed."

"Your father loved you," Astrid whispered, touching the careful crafting of the jewelry about her neck, "I don't even know my father."

Myrah touched grabbed her shoulders and smiled, this time more similar, "I want you to have it."

Astrid looked surprised, "Oh I couldn't allow you to-"

"For now," the elf interrupted, pulling back some hair behind her pointy ear. "I'll be back for it before you know it, I promise."

The two wanted to cry, but they knew there was no longer time for tears or hysterical breakdowns. So they hugged and sat that way for a while, "I don't want you to go," Astrid whispered into her ear.

"You're my best friend Astrid," Myrah whispered in return.

"No, I'm not," the mage pulled away slightly from Myrah to grin at her, "We're sisters."

Their time was up and the mages walked arm-in-arm back into the main room, where the First Enchanter waited to escort Myrah out of the tower with the Knight-Commander too. By the entrance was Duncan, exactly where he said he'd be waiting for her. Myrah, who packed the little she could, had left the rest of her things for Astrid and the mage promised to take care of her father's gift to her. They hugged one last time and then Astrid reluctantly let her go to leave the tower with the Grey Warden. Cullen, who happened to be there, came to stand by her side and she reached for his hand to hold. She watched as her sister passed through the threshold, stopping to smile one last time at Astrid before the heavy front doors of the tower closed with a heavy thud behind her.


	8. Tendencies

**Author`s Note: Yay it's another chapter, more so a filler chapter, but an update none the less! I had a lot of trouble with this chapter, but I had a wonderful pal help me come up with some ideas. Again thanks to FlyingPigMonkey and Oxygen Pirate for their awesome reviews, it's very encouraging and inspiring! So this chapter was fun to write, although difficult, it was fun to use the thesaurus on my computer to look for different words. Next chapter will be another take on the canon storyline of Dragon Age: Origins and will be up soon! Enjoy.**

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><p>VIII. TENDENCIES<p>

The incident with the blood mage swept through the tower as quickly as the blight was devouring the south of Ferelden, and once just a tower to preserve the land of magic had quite suddenly become that of a prison. Mages now had to work with a strict schedule of being constantly overseen by an abundance of templars, the curfew had been reset to two hours after dinner was served, and more templars were arriving with each passing day. While the mages were already fuming about being locked away in a tower, the templars were having their own fits over the long exhausting change in shifts. No templar had a day off, instead they spent most of their hours standing over apprentices training and going about the tower with their chores. Harrowings had nearly seized altogether, in fear that an apprentice dabbling in blood magic might pass; or worst, admit a demon from the fade.

Cullen was one of these equally frustrated templars; his nights off had become parading the corridors way into the first rays of dawn, a mere few hopeless hours of sleep and then back to following the mages at their daily tasks. The Knight-Commander wasn't about to risk another attempt escape by any mage, whether blood magic was involved or not. Perhaps the only silver lining was the red headed mage whom he now got to see more often then before, even if she was with that other mage more than he liked. Due to Astrid's history of good behavior throughout the years she spent in the tower, she had been made one of the very few mages allowed to work past curfew and go about her business without a templar guarding her every move.

He was watching her now, sharing her lunch with an apprentice much younger than her and that blasted mage he so despised. Cullen tensed, but just the very remembrance of Astrid grabbing his hand for comfort three nights ago could calm him completely. The templar looked down at his hand in admiration, flexing his fingers at his waist; it still felt warm where her slender fingers had curled around his gauntlet. Peeking back at where she sat along the long table, he incredulously found her looking at him with a fond smile. Cullen held back from grinning broadly back at her and had to settle with a subtle nod in her direction.

However, the templar should have acted more cautiously. There was a disgruntled clearing of the throat, and Cullen's full attention was redirected to the cross look of Hadley. The Knight-Comander's second tightly tucked his arms across his chest plate and narrowed his suspicious look at Cullen. As if knowingly, the young templar stole one last glance at the lady mage and followed Hadley out of the main hall.

The venture to Hadley's conjoined office was rather slow and painful, Cullen feared the short-lived affair with Astrid was moments away from being exposed. The elder templar waited by the doorway for Cullen to enter first, his face still laced with a dangerous theory. Cullen heard the thick wooden door heavily swing unto its frame, followed by the carefully made footsteps as Hadley walked around his desk. Neither of the templars sat, he almost felt taking the chair was a trap. "Cullen," the younger templar had never heard Hadley speak in the tone, it almost seemed borrowed from the much disciplined Greagoir. "I've begun to notice you and that mage are closer than that of a normal relationship between a templar and mage," Hadley sighed heavily, "I've tried to find a plausible reason for it, but Cullen, the answer doesn't look good for you."

Cullen couldn't breathe, his worst fears were uprooting right before him; he had to do something, say something. "Ser, uhm, I've known the mage since I was first assigned to the tower...Ser," he felt the sweat bead about the back of his neck and the uncontrollable feeling to pace.

Hadley's suspicious brows never wavered, "You've been here since your training in the chantry, is that correct?"

"I've been in the tower for f- five years now Ser," he stuttered, the immediate sign of his nervousness. "Astrid- Well, the mage, was assigned to show me around and she would help me from time to time." The memories of their blossoming friendship was comforting at a time such as this, it was all purely innocent and honest, until that dark and steamy night in the chapel. Cullen felt the burning ache for her again, it raged through his loins and caused his breathing to shorten. "We are just friends Ser Hadley, and as far as I'm aware that isn't a crime."

The old templar was brought in an expression of disbelief, the usual stammer of Cullen was short-lived by his confident answer. "No there isn't a crime of friendship, in fact, we'd rather prefer the templars to befriend the mages then make enemies of them," Hadley almost breathed a disappointed sigh, "Sorry to suggest there was more than friendship." The templar paused momentarily, "I suppose with the recent blood mage and initiate conspiracy...well, we can never be too careful with the trust in this tower now can we?"

"N- no I suppose we can't," Cullen answered, doing his best not to look so relieved as he felt.

Hadley pulled his hand down his face and sighed heavily, "Well, I suppose you can return to your duties." He couldn't have turned on his heels faster and the door was just a finger tip away, "I expect that your relationship with the mage will continue without any attached feelings."

Cullen's hand clenched the knob tightly from Hadley's final word, was he still suspicious? The younger man nodded obediently and walked through the open doorway as soon as the door had swung open. He tried to distance himself from the templar quarters as quickly as he could, fearing the dubious looks of his fellow templars. Although their non-platonic relationship had ended, perhaps more so reluctantly for him, Cullen felt the overwhelming worry of their secret being found out. He trusted Astrid, conceivably with his life, so there shouldn't have been that doubt wandering through the chasm between his ears. A doubt that would surely doom them if they were not careful.

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><p>Astrid had found solace in burying herself in a book and away from the uprising of mage complaints. As if the apprentices hadn't already had enough reason to dislike her, the week-old mage had been granted special privileges once the Knight-Commander had adjusted the order of the tower's traditional law. While the curfew was earlier for most, she was allowed later access to certain areas in the tower and she wasn't 'assigned' a templar. With Myrah gone, there wasn't much of anything to do by herself past curfew, and Anders' various escapes had made it impossible for them to share the time together. So, since she was rather alone, Astrid fell back to the library and the selection of books she had found on the legendary Grey Wardens. Now that her best friend was to be one of them, it felt it was her responsibility to learn all she could of the wardens.<p>

So far, she had been completely taken aback by what she read; the origins of the Grey Wardens was almost mythological, too fantastic to be a reality. Astrid was reading perhaps her third book of the wardens when the text of her current page was suddenly overshadowed by someone behind her. She had only tilted her head a little bit before a mage had covered her slightly parted mouth with his, and kissed her as fiercely and passionately as a proper lover. Although her and Anders were not entirely lovers, some amount of feelings had bred between them. He slyly slipped his tongue into her mouth and entangled his hand through her long hair, not even parting to give her a proper greeting. When he did pull away, Astrid was breathless and gazing half-liddedly up at him.

"Anders..." she huffed, trying to resist his wet kisses along the line of her jaw. The alluring mage grabbed her hand and abruptly pulled her onto her feet, his arms wrapping tightly along her waist. Astrid was so swept up in another frenzy of his kisses, that her hands swayed motionless at her side as she tried to stay balanced in his arms. The sensation was overwhelming and new, it almost scared her.

Out of breath himself, Anders disengaged from the kiss and coyly grinned, "Somehow I knew kissing you feverishly after curfew was a good idea."

If she had been swooned before, Astrid was now very much aware and firmly standing on her two feet now. "Past curfew!" she wasn't so much worried for herself as she was for Anders, who was perhaps the list topper of mages forbidden to disobey the new rules. The magess scrambled out of his arms and fastened the leather strap on the book she had been reading close. Astrid passed him to replace the book in the obvious gap on the shelf, blowing away the dusk when it clouded in her face from the sudden movement. She turned to see Anders had her backed against the bookshelf, with his arms holding onto the shelf at both sides of her.

"Mhm," he smirked, brushing his lips across her cheek. "I've been a very bad mage," he coed into her ear, hands now carefully stroking the length of her arms. Astrid was at a loss for words, sure Anders had seen her half-naked but the only man to have seen her entirely was Cullen; and without that lusty mania, she wasn't entirely prepared for intimacy with Anders.

But now he was kissing her again, pressing himself closely to her as an arm fell at the small of her back. Anders' free hand supported the back of her head from bumping into the shelves, a kind gesture. Astrid, who had been keeping her hands to herself, finally found them scaling up his back and clutching tightly to the fabric of his robes. Cullen may have been her first, but he wasn't going to be her last...or was he? Astrid forced herself to give into Anders' advances, for there was evidence of his intentions pressing firmly against her thigh. She let out a shaky moan, moving her arms around his shoulders as he caressed the tender flesh of her neck with his mouth. Again that cold feeling she always had with Anders returned, tingling leisurely down her spine.

She was on the verge of giving in to the temptation, careless they were in the corner of a very stuffy library. However, it would be the mages' headless attention that blindsided them to their templar audience. Astrid had just begun to feel Anders' hand grope her thigh when a very loud voice had split the sexual tension, "Oi, aren't it past your curfew mages?" The templar was still wearing his helmet, which hid any sort of reaction he may have had to the two tangled mages. As she tried to mask her flushed face, Astrid secretly thanked the maker neither of them had tried to undress the other yet.

The first templar was soon joined by a second and his missing mask gave way to a snarky smirk, "Two mages copulating in the library? Oh Knight-Commander is going to love this." He made no strive to conceal his curious eyes as they roamed over Astrid, which suddenly had made her uncomfortable even in all her robes. "Come on, back to your chambers," the second templar patted the other templar on the shoulder and he progressed forward and grip Anders by the arm. The un-helmeted templar aggressively grabbed her arm and began to drag her out the library behind Anders, "Knight-Commander will hear of this in the morning."

And indeed in the morning he did. As soon as Astrid woke the next morning, a young apprentice was waiting outside to summon her to Irving's office. So she made the ominous task of walking to the end of the hallway to his open door. The First Enchanter was hesitant to believe Astrid was the mage found in such a suggestive situation in the library, but after she confirmed his disbelief, the old mage went on to tell her how disappointed he was. Discussing her relationship was Anders was beyond awkward, but Irving never mentioned any disapproval of them being together, just the canoodling openly together. Upon the Knight-Commander's request, Astrid's curfew privilege was taken away and she was now to report to her room the same time as the rest of the mages in the tower.

"In all honesty First Enchanter, I was expecting more of a severe punishment..." Astrid really didn't care about having her extended curfew taken away, she was expecting more of being locked away in a dungeon and tossing the key.

The old man chuckled and stroked his grey beard, "You've always been a good girl Astrid, never gave the templars or the senior mages a problem." He paused to smile deservingly at her, "And Greagoir sees that. It is our hope that all our apprentices could only be as well behaved as your are." Irving chuckled again, although more loudly than before, "but I'm afraid that would be too much to ask for." He eased out from behind his desk and walked around his desk, bringing his hands together behind his back, "As for Anders, well, there's not much we can do to keep him put."

It was true. The charming mage had made a record for himself by all the escapes he had made from the tower, which he paid for spending time in solitary cells in the basement. Astrid was sure that's where he was now, she almost felt guilty for not sharing the same punishment as him. "Will he be held there long?" she asked knowingly, catching him slightly off-guard.

"I don't think so, he'll stay there for the night and then the templars will be keeping an extra eye on him," Irving's answer eased her guilt, but only a sliver of it. He wound wounded up sitting behind his desk and lazily overlooking a stack of letters scattered about his desk. "That is all child, you're free to enjoy the rest of your day."

Astrid merely nodded and left his office, she found herself suddenly starving. So in haste, she made her way in the direction of the delicious smells emitting from the kitchens. All the while, she was showered with questionable stares and gestures of the tower's residences. Whispering to one another and carefully pointing, the mage watched as templars and mages alike gossiped with every step she took. So obvious they were, her stomach no longer begged for food but ached from the sickish feeling of being judged. Astrid skipped the main hall and didn't even dare to revisit the library yet, instead she found herself on the familiar path to the chapel. It was there she crossed paths with Cullen, surely making his rounds. His face reddened upon recognizing her and there she knew he had heard about her and Anders in the library.

He stopped her before she could brush past him, gently touching her arm, "They're all talking about it Astrid, I- I tried to stop them." Astrid saw the sincerity clear across the features of his face, but in his eyes she saw the rage and wrath.

"It's alright Cullen, I- I was stupid to allow that to happen," she replied, desperate to find an excuse she could serve to the templar, but why? His grip tightened about her elbow and she looking hopefully at his eyes.

"I- well- just be careful," his hand fell away from her and she almost felt empty. She watched his back as he casually sauntered off, biting his tongue. Astrid sighed and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. With nowhere else to hide, she entered the chapel, looking for a sign.


	9. Without You

**Author`s Note: I don't know if anyone has noticed, but most- actually I think all my updates have been in the wee hours of night/morning. I thought I should mention this just incase someone worried I hadn't updated, but chances are I did update it when I should really be sleeping, lol. Again, a lovely thanks to all who've added _A Dangerous Thing_ to their favs and alerts, I had no idea how well received this story would be! Anyhow, this chapter was actually suppose to have two additional parts...but I felt it was best to split it into two separate chapters. Cheers!**

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><p>IX. WITHOUT YOU<p>

"I'd never thought I'd get out of there..."

Anders' night in the solitary confinement of a cell had easily become several more nights when he had confidently insulted a templar escorting him from the basement. His persistent quest to make the templars' lives just as hellish as he thought his own was, had become sort of an annoying part of the mage's otherwise charming personality. Astrid nonetheless, willingly listened to the charming mage's bantering and complaints whenever he had a bad day; like today. She had been reading to herself, a book from the library she was able to whisk away without being pestered, when her dear Anders found her in the great hall. He smiled radiantly upon her, showering her face with kisses. The young mage noticed his lips were dry and his clothes...well, dingy.

The mage tried her best not to gag at the sewer-like smell of poor Anders, "I think you need to bathe darling." Anders chuckled and squeezed himself beside her, not even hesitating to hold her against him, despite his hygiene.

"Only if you wash my back," he slyly replied, arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Astrid answered jokingly, closing the book on her thumb, saving the page.

He laughed again, "After a week in the dungeon, with a templar watching my every move, I think i'd like it very much." Anders kissed her again, causing her to drop her book when he pulled her arms around his neck and nearly forced his tongue through her lips. It was happening again, the sweet temptation of giving into the mage was suddenly stronger than before. She kissed him back, perhaps a bit more boldly than he was prepared for and pulled away.

"You must bathe before you join me for dinner," she demanded of him in a coy smirk; if the mage was going to tease her, she might as well begin to play along. Astrid found her book opened where it fell to the ground and bent over to pick it up, "And we'll go from there." Anders seemed to finally catch on to what she said, he smiled back at her just as crafty as she had.

"Then there's no time to be wasted." The mage was on his feet quickly, leaning over to kiss her one last time on her cheek before he left in haste to his own bedchamber.

Astrid smiled after him, but as soon as the mage had sauntered out of sight, she felt her cheeks give in to a more desolate expression. She liked Anders, a lot, but something was missing and she couldn't help but feel awfully unsure of taking the next step in their relationship. The mage was no longer a virgin, so she didn't have to fret over the awkward fumbling and insecurity. Then again, as far as she knew, Cullen had remained intact himself. Yet when they delved immediately into the forbidden pleasure, neither of them spoiled the moment with their inexperience. It was something she was most definitely going to ponder.

With a heavy sigh, she trudged herself to where dinner would be served soon; hoping that rotting old table in the corner was still abandoned as ever. Since Myrah had left, Astrid was feeling more and more alone in the circle. She had been made well aware that most of the other apprentices and mages did not have a fond opinion of her, even those she had grown-up with. It was something she couldn't understand, what could she have done to be so disliked? Sure she probably respected the templars more than the average mage did, and maybe she was on the good side of most senior mages, but that was no reason for the mistreatment. Astrid was officially known to be with Anders too, which made her even more unpopular with her fellow magic-bearers.

Sometimes she wondered why he had chosen her out of all the women, and men if the rumor proved true, in the circle. The question brought her back to thinking of Myrah again, whom had so cleverly calculated the match to begin with. Astrid choked, she was always on the brink of tears when thinking of that silly elf who was her only real friend. She fingered for the necklace tucked under her robes, a very personal token of Myrah's that she left in the care of Astrid. Although the elf mage had promised to return for it, the red head couldn't help but wonder if Myrah had given it to her for an entirely different reason. Her heart began to ache and she clutched the jeweled leaf to her chest, trying to hold back the water works.

"Alright, all squeaky clean-" her head snapped in the direction of the intruding voice, relieved to have her mind elsewhere. The mage made good on his promise to clean-up and meet her for dinner, for now he smelt strongly of a nice soap and his gold hair was still wet. She smiled at his proud figure, tucking Myrah's necklace back into her robe when he sat again beside her. Upon a closer look he had also made pristine his stubble, and left his hair down instead of pulled back. Anders smirked at her, happily placing his hand on her thigh and giving it a tender squeeze.

Despite his rough hand moving up her thigh, Astrid was having that sudden sinking feeling of something terrible again. "Dinner should be ready soon," she said to throw off the darkening feeling of doom. It worked for her, but didn't even phase the mage still groping her.

"Smells delicious," he muttered as the apprentices just stepped out of the kitchens with platters of the meal. Astrid made to place a napkin her lap when she felt Anders' mouth close to her ear, "But of course, I can't wait for dessert." He brushed his lips, still dry, across her cheek and kissed her tenderly at her temple. Anders squeezed her thigh one last time and slowly averted his focus to the small roast brought to their table.

They sat alone, save for the few young apprentices new to the tower, whom had been taken under Astrid's wing by Irving's request. It would seem he was going to make good on having more apprentices who shared the same concept of living in the circle as Astrid did. Then again, the lady mage had known no other life. She was a rare mage in that as a wee babe she had shown immediate signs of magic, and was gladly, as she surely thought her mother felt, handed to the Circle of Magi. And being entirely raised in the circle, Astrid had a unique respect for the templars that not many other mages shared. So the taste of freedom, direct sunlight on her face, and the changing of the seasons were all experiences the young mage had never had; and probably wouldn't. With that, she didn't understand the desperate need to flee the tower as Anders had done many times and the cowardly resort to blood magic as Jowan did.

Curious, she looked at Anders, gravy dribbling from the corner of his mouth and aggressively forking his meat. She wondered if she should ask him what was so great being an apostate, on the constant run from the templars? Honestly, she couldn't understand it. The mage stuffing his face noticed her peculiar look at him, brows together in innocent wonder and her lips just barely parted. Astrid saw his face lighten up and his eyes become extremely big, almost elf like. He wiped his mouth swiftly with his sleeve and spoke, "I wouldn't give me that look love." The mage was unsure what he meant, raising an arched brow. Anders cleared his throat and smiled darkly at her, "It is awfully seductive, and I don't know if I'll be able to wait any longer."

Upon realizing what he meant, Astrid couldn't help but look away and stare with little interest at her potato. So he was taking the next line to cross in their relationship much more seriously than Astrid was, which worried her. She remembered him saying he would wait, but the mage didn't know if she wanted him to keep taking his time. A part of her almost wanted Anders to sweep their dinner off the surface and take her right there, the very idea made her cheeks rosy almost immediately; and Anders noticed. Even as she was hiding her face with her hands, the charming mage was smiling knowingly down on her again. "Should we finish up quickly?" he asked of her, with his hand at her thigh again.

Astrid disconnected herself from what he had said. Why was sleeping with someone suddenly a hard thing? When it was her and Cullen, neither of them shied away from the task at hand or inquired whether the time was right, it just happened and often. Thinking back on her affair with the templar, the mage realized they had laid with one another for a week's length and sometimes more than once a night. She buried her face into her hands, they had been like animals, not even bothering for idle conversation between breaths, just pure carnal knowledge. Astrid felt her hiding place tugged away by Anders, he had a worried expression and almost pained. "I'm sorry," she breathed loudly, completely ignoring the apprentices without knowing she was.

"If you're not ready-" the young mage shook her red tresses, her wrists still in the palms of Anders' hands. He was smiling again, and it actually brought her comfort. Thoughtful smile or not, the endearing master of escape pulled her own palms to his lips and kissed them individual; and then he began to suck on her finger. "Your room or mine?" his voice vibrated against her wrist, only making her redden even more.

It was at that moment a party of templars came charging into the dining hall, rushing and shouting at mages to leave their tables; a templar even came to their wobbly table and ordered for them to clear away. They were forced to move away and suddenly the dinning are was becoming a clearing for the impatient templars. She looked on fearfully, clutching to Anders' arm. From across the room she saw Cullen, just as concentrated at the task as the other templars, but he was plainly scared. And that scared her. After minutes of throwing dinner to the ground and rearranging the tables, a new templar walked into the room, his armor painted in blood.

Although the templars were all still yelling back and fourth, Astrid heard the mages' gasps and cries of both confusion and fear. Behind the bloody templar followed more, covered in even more blood and mud; and then she saw the next group come behind: mages. The mage's eyes grew wide as the others came limping in, using each other for support, their robes shredded and stained, and wounds of their own. The Circle's templars all rushed to help the wounded, quickly separating them from minor to lethal. Astrid was in a daze of uncertainty, that was until she recognized an older woman step past the wounded. "Wynne?" she recognized out loud, the realization of this sudden burst of mages sinking in.

"This can't be good," Anders said over the exhausting noise of panic in the room. She glanced momentarily up at him and then watched as Wynne at once made way to the most wounded templar. The old mage placed her hands over the templar, creating a vivid green dome over his entire body and Astrid immediately knew she was healing him. As soon as the remedial dome had been stabilized, Wynne moved on to the next victim of this obvious massacre.

"All healing mages please report!" cried a templar from the now crowded clearing. There wasn't an immediate response, but once one of the injured mages begged for their aid healers stepped forward. She suddenly felt Anders' carefully prying her fingers off his bicep.

"I need to help, I'll come see you once it is all done." The witty mage in him had disappeared and was replaced with a sense of duty to his fellow mages.

He slipped away and disappeared just as the templars now began to push the onlookers back to their rooms. Astrid was slowly pacing backwards, observing the amount of blood that now smeared the ground and the continuous echo of pain. It was all sickening and she had to force herself around to keep herself from revisiting her dinner. Then she froze at an exchange between two mages, "They're all that is left from Ostagar." Ostagar? "No," she whispered, turning back to the crying and screaming.

It can't be Ostagar. Astrid was moving rapidly, ready to throw herself into the chaos. Myrah was in Ostagar and that's all she needed to know to be scared out of her mind. She was ready to sprint to the incapacitated, but was caught back by the waist. "Myrah!" she screamed at the top her voice, but she couldn't be heard over the havoc. The mage turned in her captor's arms and beat viciously against his chest plate, unaware she was crying hysterically and that it was Cullen she was hitting so fiercely. "Let me go!" she whimpered, her fists growing numb from drumming against his armor.

"She's not here Astrid," Cullen had responded to her, still holding her despite all her struggling. The mage continued to cry out the elf's name, expecting her silly voice to call back to her, but Astrid was suddenly met with silence. She had managed to allow herself to be dragged down the length of the corridor and away from the insanity in the dining hall. "She is gone," the templar repeated, nearly dropping her when her knees finally gave in and she slipped to the ground. Astrid was hunched over her knees, grabbing at the terrible ache in her gut. Cullen knelt beside her, rubbing her back with one hand while the other tried to get her to sit-up. Astrid pressed her forehead against the dusty ground and cried, her face wet and mouth open with crackling wailing. "They're all gone Astrid," he spoke softly to her, unable to tame the sobbing. Without even asking her, she felt herself sprung up in his arms, and inherently held him around the neck.

Cullen carried her the distance to her room, which took him down a flight of stairs and then nearly the entire length of the senior mage corridor. Astrid had stopped frantically crying, but tears still streamed across her features and she was beginning to wonder when they would dry up. The templar masterly opened the door with her still wrapped in his arms and pushed it open with the tip of his boot. If the timing hadn't been so terrible, the whole idea of being carried to her bedchamber bridal style would have been overwhelmingly romantic, but Astrid didn't have the muscles to smile. Carefully, Cullen stepped into her room and smoothly made a straight path for her bed. The mage had fallen into such a comfort in his arms, she all but clung to him desperately as he bent down to lay her neatly on the quilt. Softly, he kept her head up and reached for her pillow to slip beneath her mass of red hair.

Then something sprouted from her mouth that neither of them expected, "Kiss me Cullen." She watched his eyes linger carefully on her face and wander to the door, his hand warily drawn away from stroking her hair. Somehow the tears had suddenly stopped, but her eyes were still cloudy and her face moist. Cullen shook his head and stepped away from the bed. Astrid knew she shouldn't have said that, but for some reason she felt she had to. When there was no response, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, not rudely of course but to draw the sudden tension in the air away. That's when she heard him leave, when there was no answer to her absurd demand that was so out of the blue.

And now that she was alone again, the young mage was savagely crying again, burying her face in a pillow and kicking her legs against the bed. There wasn't anything to break or shatter, so she resorted to throwing off her pillows and piece by piece taking apart of the dressings of her bed. Astrid steadily perched herself on the edge of her naked mattress, there was no more tears to cry for now. She gradually assessed the mess, taking notice to the violet quilt amongst the disorder. The mage sniffled and shakily got to her feet to gather the comforter in her arms, it was heavy and well made, unlike most quilts in the circle. And it had also belonged to Myrah, another item she left behind for Astrid.

She achingly crawled into her bed, cuddling within the mass of the quilt, taking in the spicy scent that was once her friend's. No not her friend, her sister. Astrid closed her eyes, if she couldn't have imagined living miles apart, how was she even suppose to fathom going on alone. The sad mage tucked herself up to her nose, trying to dismiss the thought. And eventually, somehow, she wandered into a hopelessly peaceful sleep.

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><p><strong><em>Short Story Sneak Peek...<em>**

_I fought the irresistible desire to collapse to the ground and cry- or was it to be sick? All I had known since my mother gladly damned me to the tower had been ripped away all too suddenly. My friends, dear Astrid, they were to become a figment of my former existence as a mage of the Circle of Magi; and it was sickening. When I stepped across that forbidden threshold and took that final desperate look of comfort at what would become my past, Astrid, whom had become my only family, smiled. I had told her this was my destiny, a calling from the Maker for bigger and better things, but I wasn't sure anymore. I guess I wasn't sure of anything anymore. But there was no turning back, the Right of Conscription had been established, and I had to turn my back on the life I'd come to love. Even as the doors to the tower were pushed closed by the templars, Astrid smiled._

_A hand suddenly touched my shoulder, and the Grey Warden I had only known for a few hours was gazing down encouragingly at my elfish frame. "It will be alright," he spoke fatherly, Duncan sounded more like her father than she could have ever thought. "You will see them again," he continued, "When? I cannot say." The stories of Grey Wardens and their lives dedicated to the blight was all too familiar for me, Father always told me their story during our visits. The warden's hand left my shoulder and I knew it was time for us to leave for Ostagar. It took all my power to turn around and follow him._

**So I absolutely love my character Myrah and felt she deserved her own spin-off! This is still just an idea for now, no definite story yet. What you readers think, yay? Nay?**


	10. If I Die Young

**Author`s Note: So it is two in the morning right now, and I finally got this chapter done. Like the last chapter, I ended up having to split this chapter in half as well. The chapter was so long, half of the next chapter is already done. So there will probably be an update _very_ soon. I realize I've been doing a lot in Astrid's point of view, but don't worry I'm working on getting some more Cullen point of view in there once this whole chapter becoming three parts is done :D Enjoy.**

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><p>X. IF I DIE YOUNG<p>

Unfamiliar hands touched her hair and gently brought her to a startling awakening. At first Astrid passed her surroundings with rapid eye movement, momentarily forgetting how she had gotten back to her room. She craned her neck uncomfortably, since laying on her stomach had made looking up an awkward task at the moment. She was met with the warming eyes of the only motherly figure that had ever entered her life: Wynne, a mage and perhaps the most powerful healer in the tower. The young mage couldn't bring herself to smile, even though she was relieved to have Wynne both back and unharmed from the battle. It brought her back to thinking of Myrah, and then the tears she thought had dried from last night where back again.

"Oh child," Wynne consoled, patting Astrid gently on the back. The young mage tucked her face into her pillow, trying to muffle the louder sobbing. "Come now Astrid, Myrah would not want you to lay here and cry now would she?" Of course she was right. The elf never liked to see someone down or upset, for the most part she would have avoided them entirely, unless she had schemed a plan to cheer them up. This had been the case for Astrid on various occasions. Since she'd rather honor her friend's life, rather then act the very way Myrah disliked, she slowed her crying to slight chokes and moved to sit-up. Wynne moved over just the slightest, allowing Astrid to swing her legs over the edge. The old woman took one of her hands and patted it softly, "Let's get you some breakfast, hmm?"

Wynne didn't even wait for an answer, she pulled the sad mage up by her hand and presumed to push her from behind out the open door. Usually Astrid would have gotten dressed before leaving her room, but frankly, she was still wearing the same set of robes from yesterday. Under the circumstances, she could care less if anyone noticed anyways. The younger mage reluctantly took the lead, following the curve of the corridor to their staircase. Today the circle was rather quiet, far more quieter than Astrid had ever heard it be before. Then again, when had a the circle been terrorized by the survivors' tales of the massacre at Ostagar. She flinched after reaching the top step of the stairs, catching a powerful whiff of soaps and mixed perfumes. Wynne came to stand by her, "They must still be cleaning from last night."

Astrid didn't know if she bring herself to sit in the dining room, but after all the carnage that had gone on in there the night prior. There had been so much blood splattered across the floor and she could have sworn to have seen someone's insides spill out of his gut. Suddenly the mage bumped into the wall for support and Wynne was cautiously at her side again, "It'll be alright dear, most of the gore is gone, it's just the smell they're getting rid of now." The old mage was leading her by the hand again, placing a feeble hand on her shoulder blade. The dinning hall came into view and while some were eating, the apprentices were working quickly to remove the 'stain' of last night's terror. Astrid felt sorry for them, given the dirty work while the rest were free to mourn. A few apprentices looked up in passing and in her disbelief, none of them stared back in dislike as they so often had before. Sometimes it took a tragedy to open someone's eyes.

"Now sit here Astrid," Wynne had brought her to a crowded table, which was unusual for her, since most usually avoided sharing a meal at the same time as her. "I will be right back, Aneirin please make sure she eats while I am gone." The mage rubbed her forehead and side-glanced as the apprentice elf beside her nodded obediently at Wynne before she trotted off. Although Aneirin was a few years younger than she, they had been partially raised together by Wynne and he had a curious bond with Myrah over their heritage. And on a side-note, they were both complimented redheads; which, when they younger, made them feel special. Astrid couldn't never tell herself why they had felt that way, but they had. The young elf forced a smile at her, he was never one to socialize.

He pushed a fresh loaf of bread towards her, "Better do what she asks right?" Astrid momentarily stared at him, still trying to wake-up from an exhausting sleep. However, Aneirin was right. Wynne might not have been a strict parental figure, but she sure knew how to make you feel guilty for disobeying her. So weakly, she held her knife up to the loaf and cut herself a nice thick slice. Aneirin soon pushed a tablet of butter towards her and a glossy jar of jam, he had known her too well.

"Thank you Aneirin," she replied, covering her bread in a plentiful amount of jam and butter before taking a large bite from the corner. It was more fulfilling than she had anticipated and soon one piece had turned into the remainder of the loaf, despite the perplexed looks she got from those around her. She had stuffed it all down in a matter of minutes, unaware that her nibbling at meals for the past few days had left her quite starved. Astrid waited for someone to complain, but none of the mages or apprentices surrounding her said a word. Instead, it seemed, they were looking at her worriedly.

Wynne returned at least a half-hour later, asking firstly about whether Astrid made an effort to eat something. Aneirin played witness to the devouring of the loaf, as did a few others at the table by surprise, and when the old mage was satisfied she let out a sigh. "Something wrong Wynne?" the red headed elf asked of her, making a face when he realized his milk had gone warm.

"No, I'm just a little surprised by the effort the templars are making is all," she answered shortly, spooning porridge into her wooden bowl. Wynne had always believed in what the circle stood for, and that was probably why Astrid was like her in so many ways. Even when the templars were being difficult, they both remained patient and helpful.

"Why would that be?" Astrid couldn't refrain from asking, with the incident with a blood mage and now the blight chasing their heels, she didn't understand what sort of 'effort' they were making.

"When a tragedy such as Ostagar occurs with members of the circle, the Knight-Commander would only permit the First Enchanter and the senior mages to attend the memorial," Wynne spoke fluently over her bowl of porridge, sitting as pose and proper as she always had. The young mage still didn't understand, and made that clear to the healer with her expression. Placing her spoon down neatly on top of her napkin, she continued, "our memorials take place outside the tower you see. So to prevent a massive escape, only the most trusted could be allowed out of the tower." Wynne let out a confused sigh, "However, the Knight-Commander has increased security for this peculiar memorial, so I went to speak with him."

"And what did he say?" Aneirin sudden interest was received with a shocked look from Astrid.

"Well, it appears the Knight-Commander has had a change in heart," she answered plainly. "Instead of just the most advanced mages being allowed to attend, he has given permission for those close to the deceased to participate as well, under the double quantity of templars of course."

Astrid's spoon slipped from her fingers and she gazed darkly down at the table, "Will I be able to attend Wynne?" The young mage kept her focus on the wooden planks nailed together, waiting to hear her mentor over the low buzz of conversation.

"I've arranged so that you and one other can go in honor of Myrah," Wynne answered in sweet comfort, clasping Astrid's hand in care between her own.

The redhead stood and pulled free her hand from the mage, but gently so. She nimbly reached for her napkin, wiping any crumbs from the corners of her mouth, and then finally made eyes with the elder. "I will be in my room," she said hastily, the dawning of Myrah's death coming full circle from last night. Astrid left the table, rushing past the few apprentices still working lavishly at returning the dining hall to normal. She wasn't about to return to her room to cry again, she just suddenly felt an overwhelming need to be alone and catch her breath. Memorials were suppose to be sad, but Astrid felt a weird relief. She was allowed to go, and even better, she would be the one to honor Myrah. The thought nearly made her smile on her way back down the stairway, but it didn't last long.

She stepped over the disaster that was now her room, moving cunningly towards her trunk; an old chest, with doodles scratched in from her childhood. Astrid began to peel away yesterday's robes, they smelt oddly of tears and she could of sworn blood. She wasn't sure when the memorial was and hadn't even bothered to ask, but she was going to be ready for it. Inhaling deeply, she sat in front of her trunk, negligent to the fact she was still only in her small-clothes. There wasn't much she could choose from to wear, it wasn't like the mages were walking around in Orlesian silk. Astrid found her old apprentice robes, still slightly burnt from practicing with Anders, followed by her work robes. They were black, an appropriate color for mourning, but she thought back on what Wynne had told her.

Myrah's favorite color had been green, 'any shade of green' she often recited, which had lead to her fondness of a pair of jade robes Astrid owned. Most of the time the elf had borrowed them for herself, but since her departure the robes had fallen back into the redhead's hands. This was what she was going to wear she told herself, clutching the jade fabric closely. The robes were unique in that the bodice had a low cut in the front and a corset with buckles, other than that it was basically another mage robe. Astrid took her time piecing together her wardrobe, even going so far as to wear her best stockings. With her boots in place, all that was left with Myrah's necklace, which she had awoken and removed carefully last night.

Approaching her vanity, Astrid hadn't realized she was holding back until she felt the cool metal of the leaf pendant against her palm. That's when she fell back to her knees again, barely missing the edge of the table with her head. She wasn't crying yet, but the mage felt sick and dizzy. How could this have happened? Did the Maker hate the mages that much? She had no answer for herself, and probably never would. Now short of breath, Astrid shakily tried to clasp the chain around her neck, but to no avail. However, suddenly there was a pair of hands taking the chain away from her and getting the deed done. Astrid turned her body from where she sat on the ground, unaware she had turned her back to the door.

"Cullen?" How did she _not_ here him come in with all that armor on, let alone kneel right behind her. He offered her his hand, and she was easily swept back on her feet. She dusted off her skirt, but fell motionless when the templar was touching her hair; tucking back what had come undone from her fall. He still hadn't said anything, but for some reason that was alright with her, just having him near was a comfort. Cullen looked down at her, and she suddenly realized just how much taller he was than her. But looking up at him, there was something different in the way he looked at her. Astrid opened her mouth to ask of his sudden presence in her room, but he never gave her the chance.

The templar's mouth longingly sucked on her bottom lip, licked the circle of her puckered lips, and then she felt his tongue graze through her teeth. Astrid had never felt such a hunger, such desire. She wanting nothing more but for him to rip her free of her robes and take her, roughly and multiple times. The mage had never experienced lust like this before, and it was entirely carnal. She reached around his neck, realizing she hadn't heard Cullen and his armor because he wasn't wearing any, just the casual tunic and breeches. Strange, considering the templars were on duty at almost all hours of the day, but Astrid didn't care. No, Astrid instead was craving for Cullen's fingers about her body.

She began to rub herself against him, feeling the lechery in his groin. He still hadn't said a word, so she wasn't expecting much of an explanation for his sudden lewdness, but what about herself? Yesterday she was ready to give herself to Anders, but at this very moment she was on the verge of throwing herself onto Cullen. The hesitation pulled him away from unbuckling her corset and nibbling at her neck, he looked at her with such a lusty gaze. He desired her, as much as she desired him. She closed her eyes to kiss him, but felt nothing.

"Astrid?" She opened her eyes to find herself sprawled across the ground, Myrah's necklace still in the clutch of her hand. The mage had never been so muddled, not even when she had helped the elf steal a bottle a wine and woke the next morning half-way under her bed. There was a touch to her head and she immediately winced, beginning to feel the throbbing against her head and a slight taste of iron on her lip. "Oh Astrid," the mage had realized it was now Anders helping her sit-up and pushing aside her bangs, "You've hit your head."

"Was that what happened?" she fluttered, rubbing the bleeding bruise in hopes of soothing the pain. Anders appeared worried, knitting together his brows as he took a wet cloth from the vanity. He dabbed at the blood that had caked the right side of her face, which also had a mixture of dirt from the ground. She felt suddenly light-headed and leaned forward into Anders' chest.

He dropped the cloth and held her up by the shoulders, "Astrid you're scaring me." The injured mage held up her hand and presented the necklace to him.

"Will you please put this on for me," she muttered, objects in her room still spinning. The mage obeyed her request, waiting as she gathered her wavy hair and pulled it away from her neck. Astrid felt his fingers around her neck and then the cold chain fall into place. "Thank you," she beamed, although she wasn't sure why.

"You must have a concussion, here let me-" Anders didn't even finish his sentence before he started to heal her wound, careful not to make it bleed any further. The pain began to subside, along with Astrid's muzzy acting. She blinked a few times and shook her head, as if broken out of some spell. The blond mage carefully helped her to her feet, reluctant to remove his hand from her waist when she had got her groundings again. Astrid felt some sort of repetition, but couldn't place her finger on it. Instead she leaned into Anders and hugged him.

"Will you go with me," she whispered against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against her ear. Anders squeezed her carefully against him, kissing the top of her head. That was answer enough for her, so she stood there with him, clutching to the charming mage. For a few minutes they stayed like that, until the time to attend the memorial arrived and she left hand-in-hand with Anders.

It was a strange walk down through he apprentice quarters and into the front chamber of the tower. Astrid peeked at where the basement door was, replaying that last night with Myrah in her head. She noticed that the crowd before the tower's entrance had only grown to include a few other minor mages and templars. Wynne was with them now and had assured Astrid they would proceed soon. Anxiety raced through her and subconsciously she held onto the pendant at her neck, fingering the Dalish ring. Then Anders squeezed her hand and the doors were opened. Astrid had never seen dusk in person, nor so many templars gathered together at once. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun, surprised by the cool breeze that swept her hair away from her shoulders. The was a mixture of unfamiliar smells present in the air, which she inhaled, savoring the experience.

The mages were lead to a clearing by the shore, where a series of wooden boats laid together. While most were empty, some held the bodies of those that didn't survive their wounds last night. With a single scan, she knew an empty boat had been made for Myrah. Astrid watched as the memorial immediately began to proceed when the first of the boats was pushed out into the lake, pushed off by a crying sister of the chantry. The releasing of the boats continued, each with more attenders and more tears. When Wynne had touched her arm, Astrid knew she was next.

Walking to the shore she heard the water lap against the land for the first time, the distant humming of insects in the little vegetation on the island. She took a moment to close her eyes, take in her surroundings. Then with a gentle nudge to her shoulder, Astrid knelt before a boat, filled to the top with decorative flowers. She began to push it, but suddenly couldn't bring herself to do it. The mage hung her head between her extended arms, holding onto the struggling boat. Tears began to pour down her face and into the dirt. "I can't do it," she whispered to herself, nails digging hopelessly into the wood.

"Astrid it's alright." She watched as an armored hand covered hers in encouragement. Astrid looked over her shoulder at Cullen, properly armored and grieving for her pain. The mage tore her gaze away from him, unable to mask the foolish blush that rose to her cheeks. And then she released the boat, watching on her hands and knees at it sailed away from her. Cullen was still beside her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him, not with the sudden memories flooding back from earlier. She helped herself to her feet and back towards Anders, feeling a hurt gaze upon her back. The rest of the boats were pushed out into the lake and a line of templars stood at the shore, bows raised and their arrows ablaze. Astrid watched sadly as Myrah's boat caught fire and sunk to the bottom of the lake.


	11. This Love, This Hate

**So I accidentally originally deleted this chapter, which is why this update is very late. I can't even begin to explain how mad at myself I was, it was so terrible D: Anyways, here it is, although not as good as the original, I think you all will enjoy that the storyline is finally picking up. Yes it gets a bit steamy, but not too bad. Also, remember that Cousland story I was gonna write? I posted the first chapter, under _A Warden's Rose_ and would really appreciate some feedback. And one last thing, you guys should check out Adrianne Whitt's _A Grey Warden Sacrifices more Than Love_, its an awesome story, and I can't get enough of it :D You can easily find it under my fav stories, so go give it a read and let me know what you think of this chapter, I'm very iffy about it.**

* * *

><p>XI. THIS LOVE, THIS HATE<p>

After remaking her bed from last night's breakdown, Astrid calmly sat at the edge, Myrah's favorite quilt folded and placed on the top of her vanity. Fearful of removing any trace of the elf from the loved coverlet, the mage made the decision to only use it on certain occasions and when she was on the verge of another meltdown. The day's memorial service had taken its toll on her, she hadn't expected it to have gone as smoothly as it had, considering templars usually never let the mages a single step outside the tower. It was a weird satisfaction of feeling the wind billow through her hair and to actually smell the lake breeze and to hear the waves crash the shoreline in person. She hoped Myrah at least enjoyed the little freedom she had, 'the grass between her toes' as she so fondly said she missed about the aleinage in Denerim.

It took all she had to prevent herself from collapsing then, but now she was powerless and sleep was beckoning. Astrid rubbed her eyes, still puffy and swollen from crying all day again. She stifled a yawn and sniffed, her nose would probably remain runny for a few days. When it seemed her guard was finally down, there was a soft tap at the door and then Anders appeared through the slim opening. He'd been at her side all day, only giving her space when she politely excused herself early from dinner. "Turning in early are you darling?" he spoke softly to her, for loud noises had suddenly begin to bother her. She nodded at him in a mourning trance, just noticing that Anders was dressed for bed himself. "Here, let me help you," the mage smiled lightly at her and knelt at Astrid's feet.

As he had many nights prior, he unlaced her boots and unhurriedly removed them from her limbs. Anders next pulled on her silk stockings, an old gift from Wynne, and gently caressed the length of her legs as he slipped each foot out of the material. He met her eyes briefly, half-lidded as hers were, and kissed the smooth muscle of her calf; his dark stubble grazing softly against her skin. If this was his idea of comforting her, it was surely distracting enough to work. The mage stood up and leaned over her, unlatching the buckles of her robes and removing the other layers until she was in nothing but her cotton tunic. She wanted to sleep, but abruptly at that moment, she wanted nothing more than Anders.

Astrid sat-up on her knees, the length of her tunic lifting mid-thigh and exposing the back of her small clothes. She opened her arms to Anders, and he gladly stepped into her embrace. His lips were on hers and she tangled her hand in the blond mat of hair that just reached the nape of his neck. The mage rubbed his knuckled up and down her back, pulling up her tunic inch by inch as he did so. Carefully she pulled away from him, reaching for the frayed end of his night shirt. He helped her pull it over his head and then drop it carelessly to the floor; finally he was half-naked before her. Astrid reached for him again, this time pulling him back unto the bed with her; and he followed, carefully adjusting his weight over her fragile frame. He opened his mouth to speak, but the mage wasn't about to listen to him. Instead she pushed him by the back of his head into her open mouth, teasingly biting his lower lip.

That was enough for the mage. Anders pushed himself against Astrid, tucking his still clothed hips between her legs, wanting to be flush with her petite frame. He played his tongue into her gapped mouth as he tried to push the young mage's tunic up the curves of her body, barely withdrawing when he needed to bring it over her head. The mage immediately began to devour her now exposed flesh, carefully kissing and licking down to her bountiful mounds. Astrid's chest swelled when he kissed the tender surface of her breast, not ready to remove it entirely from her brassiere. Somehow she knew this was entirely the wrong time to do this, but the naked mage needed this. She needed someone to comfort her tonight, and she probably would have taken anyone that came through her door.

"Kiss me," she called to him in a dazed sultry voice, leading his chin with her finger back to her swollen lips. He complied with her wishes, touching her cheek with one hand and finally venturing to touch the sensitive interior of her brassiere with the other. Astrid moaned into his mouth and dug her nub nails into his shoulder. The sensation was new, and Astrid was trying her best not to compare him to her first, although Cullen had never touched her like this before. Anders removed the material concealing her breasts and she found herself arching her back against him as his mouth licked across her skin.

* * *

><p>Cullen would never be able to un-see the sight before him. The young templar had made the decision to speak with Astrid after the memorial, once all the mages were escorted back into the tower and the whole of their population accounted for. Sure he had been avidly avoiding her these pass few days, but Cullen knew she needed a friend more than anything after the news of last night; and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. What would start as good intentions wouldn't be having the templar leaving so innocently.<p>

He made his way to Astrid's room, trying to suppress any second thoughts. Cullen found her door was ajar and curiously peeked inside, hoping the mourning mage hadn't gone to bed just yet. Suddenly he found himself struggling to breathe. The templar watched the motions and listened to the sounds with such passionate fury, his face had gone flush for an entirely different reason for once. His muscles tensed with every push and pull of their entwined bodies, his fist curling on the iron handle as she heavily panted. Cullen's free hand began to feel for the hilt of his sword from behind the door, ready to hack the mage to pieces. But his clenched grip weakened and the templar tore himself away from the doorway, trying to distance himself from the scene as quickly as possible.

The distraught templar fled from the mage quarters, scouring his thoughts for something other than the carnal passion displayed in Astrid's room to ponder; but the image had already preserved in his brain. The entanglement of limbs and the heated animation of two people, it was all too much for Cullen to bear. He was both livid with rage and heartbroken, that sliver of hope when she had asked him to kiss her gone. To sum the variety of feelings, Cullen felt betrayed by the only woman he had ever come to care for. Even after all her rejections and excuses for what had happened between them, the young templar still loved the beautiful magess. And to see her in the arms of another man, Astrid might as well have stabbed him repetitively through the heart.

Going to his room and sleeping off his sorrow was all the templar wanted to do tonight, but a shift assigned on the first floor had him trudging through the tower. He was just passing through the dining hall when an impaired voiced hollered at him from across the chamber, "Oi Cullen, come an join us!" The said templar rotated towards the call of his voice, watching with uninterested eyes as Ser Godric waved him down by the tables. He and a number of other templars were all collected at a central table, both empty and full bottles of mead or wine about the wooden surface. Cullen had no interest in dealing with drunken men at the moment.

"Shouldn't you all be performing your duties?" he asked annoyed, a little relieved for the distraction. Ser Godric shook his head and tremblingly rose his mug cheerfully.

"Knight-Commander gave us the night off, said we'd earned it," the intoxicated templar replied with a silly grin. He rose his mug again, "To the Knight-Commander!" The templars answered in cheer and downed their drinking cups.

Cullen frowned, unable to decide if he really wanted to join them or not. Then he had noticed Hadley, whom had managed to stay mostly sober in the presence of his drunken wards. He waved encouragingly at the young templar, gesturing to the vacant spot at the table beside him and a safe distance away from the rowdiness. The templar sighed and proceeded to shake his head, he'd rather be able to mope in his room after all. Rotating on his heel, Cullen trekked back towards the staircase, dreading the second he would have to pass her room again. It was towards the end of the seemingly endless corridor, still peaked open as he had left it. The templar clenched his teeth and balled his fists, the temptation to butcher the mage returning boldly.

When he had unnoticeably made it past her room without a sound emitting through her propped door, his fists unraveled, but the anger was still there. Cullen inhaled deeply, taking the next staircase slowly one step at a time. At a snail's pace the young templar dragged himself into his room, unknowingly slamming the door behind him, leaving a large splinter against the iron hatches. He couldn't relieve himself of this terrible memory; although it had been dark in her room, he had seen plenty enough. Cullen tightly closed his eyes, reminiscing life before he had bedded Astrid. Before he had realized he was absolutely in-love with the mage. It was harder than he had planned; Cullen couldn't imagine going on without knowing her touch.

The memory was so alive, the templar could feel the heat of her body against him still. He reluctantly opened his eyes, it felt so real. Cullen pried himself free of his weighty armor, bending over to loosen the laces of his leather boots but not removing them just yet. He sat at the edge of his worn cot, leaning forward on his elbows and unable to un-furrow his copper brows. The slightest movement in the doorway swung his attention from the dirty floor to the Knight-Commander's second, Hadley. Cullen propped himself back onto his feet, standing aloof for his superior.

"You look ill Cullen, rough day?" Hadley wondered, taking on that older brother role he had always shared with Cullen. The young templar smirked sadly, if only he could tell him what was haunting him. "Don't loose faith," the elder templar went on to say, catching Cullen's attention. Hadley stepped towards an old side table, revealing he had carried a bottle of ale from the party in the dining hall. He charitably poured them both a goblet full and proceeded to stand over the young templar, whom had fallen back to sitting on his bed. "The Darkspawn may be upon us at any hour," he handed Cullen his drink, "but we must cherish every moment they're not."

"Easier said than done," Cullen huffed, sipping his brew undecidedly, surprisingly finding tranquility in the numbing liquid. Hadley barely drank, looking worriedly at a cross templar.

"All I'm saying Cullen, is that life is precious and if you just let the things you want in life go by," he paused for emphasis when the young templar looked up at him, "You'll regret it for the rest of your life." Cullen was unsure how to respond, hiding his brood behind his drink; he almost felt as if the old templar knew his burning secret. A silent moment passed between the templars, Cullen heavily finishing off his first drink while Hadley hadn't even touched his a second time. Knowing there was nothing more to say, the templar strode towards the door and spoke over his shoulder, "Enjoy the rest of the bottle." Cullen side glanced at the brown bottle, listening when the door clicked shut behind Hadley.

He gazed longingly down at his empty goblet, stretching for the neck of what he recognized to be Antivan Ale, both strong and anesthetic, but definitely delicious. Cullen sloshed the beverage into his goblet, but ultimately decided to drink straight from the lip of the glass container. The liquid coursed through his body, putting aside the pain in every nook and cranny in his heart. Soon the templar was down to the very last drop, stumbling drunkenly to his feet. Cullen sneered at the empty bottle and found himself hurtling it with all his strength across the chamber, gritting his teeth as it shattered across the wall. The action made him dizzy and the angry templar fell back onto his bed, groaning when suddenly sleep felt so desirable.

Cullen believed he had slept an entire day, but it was still very under lit in his chamber when two delicate hands stroked his lips. His eyes quivered open, woken by the strange touch and unfamiliar coldness. He looked up into the undoubtably glowing eyes of Astrid, whom sat closely to him on the edge of the mattress. Something told him to turn away from her fingertips, to angrily usher her out of his room, but she must have read the confusion on his face before he could act. The mage pressed a finger to his lips, leaning in closely, "I had to see you," she whispered. Cullen knew the danger of her being caught in his bedchamber and sprung up, but Astrid held him back.

She was shrouded in a dark cloak, the hood covering her brow, and her hair cascading out by her neckline; it was obvious she had snuck by the shadows to get here. "Cullen," she spoke softly, in an exotic voice he'd never heard her use before, but it was enticing him. "I need you," Astrid murmured, outlining the definition of his chest. When his shirt had come off, he didn't know, and didn't care. Everything he had wanted was suddenly being given to him. "Kiss me," she coed, her cool breath against his ear.

The templar whisked her into his lap, pulling down her hood to reveal the entirety of her face; and then he leaned in to kiss her, surprised by the frosty touch of her lips; Cullen assumed it was some sort of magic she was using. Astrid returned the kiss feverishly, dipping her tongue deeply into his mouth and carefully cradling his face with both her hands. He reached for the knot at her collar bone, falling loose immediately, and revealing the porcelain skin of her nude body. Cullen wanted to explore and taste her figure, but the mage was biting his lip distractingly. And then, as bold as her kiss, Astrid shoved the templar down onto his back. He gazed longingly high at her, puzzled by the fuzzy appearance of her womanly features; as if his vision had blurred.

An unfamiliar pur vibrated off her tongue as she fingered the length of his chest, down to his belly button, and painfully slow to his groin. Cullen felt her squeeze his bare thighs, surprised to find he was pant-less as well. She gazed at him in a lust, coyly grinning, "Do you desire me Cullen?" He still couldn't see her beautiful naked body and it was beginning to frustrate him, but as her hands teased closer to his loins, Cullen nodded obediently. "Do you want to take her right now..." the mage whispered darkly with a smirk, leaning closer to the sweating templar.

"Yes I want- wait." Cullen felt something was terribly wrong suddenly, his own templar instinct was telling him so. He tried to wiggle free from beneath Astrid, but felt her cold fingers grope his thigh sharply. "You're not Astrid!" he recoiled from her at last, scrambling from the bed and turning to see a flaring rage pass her features. The templar eyed the room, looking for something to defend himself with; suddenly he noticed he was clothed again. The mage bowed her head and narrowed her eyes, glowing a vivid yellow, not Astrid's natural eye color. Then as quickly as he fled from her, she was springing towards him.

Cullen sat-up with a start, the sheets drenched in his sweat. It was a nightmare, a dark lewd dream of his most inner desire. The templar panted, still stunned from the events that had transpired within his sleep. Cautiously, he checked himself, finding he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and that his boots were also still tied loosely on his feet. He even wandered his over the broken bottle laying across the room. Cullen sighed sadly, Astrid never came to see him; but his sorrow was soon displaced with fear. If the mage didn't visit him, something else surely had.


	12. Heart's Desire

**Finally an update! I can't even begin to tell you the writer's block I was facing, even with all these favs popping up in my e-mail. Thank you all who have added this story to their favs, alerts, and have reviewed! I started this story with little expectations, but the attention it has been given is surprising, and is why I put more effort into every chapter :D This chapter was difficult to write, for as you all know the "Broken Circle" plot is upon us and I needed to find a way to ease into it, so I think I've figured it out. Again guys, reviews are always lovely! And hopefully expect a new chapter soon.**

**P.S. I may write a Myrah short-story and then an actual story...not sure yet, but most definitely a short story. And again, visit _Adrianne Whitt's _A Grey Warden Sacrifices More Than Love. Tis' a very charming Cousland/Alistair story. More stories that I stalk my e-mail for updates will be added to this list, just a heads up.**

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><p>XII. HEART'S DESIRE<p>

Cullen hardly slept after the dark interaction in his dream, it left him tossing and turning; unable to keep his eyes shut for anything longer than an hour before he'd see the seductive yellow pupils of that wretched woman. It was beyond a doubt not the actual mage he knew, but the templar was convinced this wicked version of her was an omen. If that wasn't a sign of lingering evil, the young man couldn't begin to wonder what else was. He kept these ideas to himself however, the thoughts suppressed by the haunting image of two mages; it still made him curl his fingers into fists until his knuckles were white. Witnessing Astrid arch herself against the motions of another man was only more reason for him to loose sleep, especially knowing he'd now be sharing the pleasure of having her beneath him with another man; a mage no less. Cullen clenched his teeth in disgust, he wouldn't be ridding this image from his mind anytime soon and the duties of a templar weren't helping.

There was now a demand for promoted apprentices to replenish the mages lost at Ostagar, so Cullen had been assigned to less than a dozen Harrowings in a month's time; starting early the next morning. The young templar sighed in place, which had been regretfully by the entrance to the great hall's stairway in the senior mage quarters. He'd purposely taken his time this morn in putting on his robes and armor to avoid Astrid, the very vision of her the morning after an evocative thought. Although it appeared to have worked, it didn't stop him from becoming anxious when the sound of footsteps grew near from beyond the curve of the corridor. Cullen anticipated the moment she'd be before him, forcing the templar to avert his focus to the ground, unable to even look at her. It was all planned in his head, but if he was willing to bite his tongue, Cullen didn't know.

Off in the distance came the quick pattering of footsteps, stumbling and changing pace as they approached the templar. Cullen prepared himself, trying to displace any taunting thoughts of what he'd seen the night prior. From the corner of his eye, he recognized the vibrant red locks bouncing about her shoulders and stood frozen. She swept past him in what appeared to be a daze, nervously playing with her hair and taking the steps slowly one at a time. The templar blinked in surprise, peeking down the stairway to see her disappear up and around the spiraling steps. Astrid had never simply walked past him without so much of a kind nod since he had known her, but today she had stepped by him as if he hadn't been there. Cullen knew he should have been at least a little relieved knowing he hadn't had to feign politeness, but a part of him was hurt for being ignored. He worriedly sighed, it was clear something was wrong.

However, Cullen knew his place in the mage's life had been a confusing matter, but that need to be her friend and comfort her was subtly returning. He knew if he just stayed where he was, keeping his mind elsewhere, the temptation would eventually go away. And it did, although the templar was now pondering the message of his dream. He had never felt such longing for Astrid, such desire, until that dream and it was eating up at him. The mage in his dream knew exactly how to tease him, appearing in his room with nothing but a dark cloak. Cullen should have known something was amiss at that moment, for Astrid was rather modest and shy when it came to intimacy; he clearly remembered that. The templar let out a desperate sigh, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get the beautiful mage he loved out of his head.

"Cullen- There you are!" The templar's distracting thoughts were punctured by the ring of two different voices, that of Ser Godric and Ser Mathias'. He glanced back at them, extremely happy to be in there company for once. The two templars hung in the threshold of the stairway, watching Cullen with uninterested eyes and the usual silly smirk. "Come on now, lunch is being served!" said the louder of the duo, Godric, whom was already backtracking up the stairs before Cullen could even open his mouth in response. The puzzlement that had been displayed across his place didn't falter and now Mathias' uninterestedness had turned into mild curiosity. "You alright lad?" Mathias was only a couple years older than Cullen, but had always made it a habit of calling him 'lad'.

Cullen shook his head, "Uh- y-yeah, I'm fine, tired is all." He had obviously not fooled the other templar, but Mathias was never one to pry and answered with a settled shrug. He nodded towards the stairway and made his way up. Cullen followed with little second thoughts, he had unintentionally skipped breakfast this morning and was now starving. He climbed the stairs after his comrades, beckoned by the smell of a heavenly glazed roast and that always lingering aroma of ale.

It was mostly templars having lunch when the weary templar wandered into the dining hall, happy to feast his eyes on the spread of today's meal. He directed himself to the usual corner of the room, noisily taking an empty seat beside Mathias. Ser Godric had already devoured a portion of the roast, now spooning mouthfuls of greens and balancing a goblet of ale in his other hand. Cullen was carefully proportioning his plate, not a fan of greens, but an admirer of saucy meats and gravy. The trio ate in silence at first, until the carnivore templar had cleared three full plates and was rubbing his plated belly. "So I had this dream last night," Ser Godric started, filling his goblet with another helping of ale. "And Maker did I wish I didn't wake-up!" he bellowed, smirking. Mathias rubbed his mouth clean with a napkin and looked up.

"Yeah, what was so good about it?" As if the templar was eager to answer, Ser Godric began to retell his dream in graphic detail. With the more he said, the more paler Cullen grew. The templar recalled being seduced by a forbidding mage, enticing him with a curling finger and smirking red lips. He followed her into a dark chamber where they embraced, and Godric gave into her lusty bosom and curves. She had stripped them of their garments tactfully and he adventurously began to roam her figure, kissing and sucking the surface of her flesh. Soon he was taking her, and as swiftly as it had begun, the templar fell from his cot. While Godric was pleased with the fantasy, Cullen was entirely petrified; for the templar had described the sultry mage in the very image of Astrid. And as if the templar had caught on to Cullen's inner thought, he commented.

"You know, she sort of looked like that one mage…Astrid was it?" Godric was still smug with his dream, unaware that Cullen was both fuming in anger and envy; even an imaginary embrace with the mage was enough to curl his fingers into fists. "If she wasn't a mage, men would be on her like a Mabari bitch in heat-" the beaming templar was struck silence when Cullen slammed his mug onto the wooden table, morning ale sloshing over the rim and everywhere else.

The young templar never tore away his narrowed gaze from the half-eaten slab of meat on his plate, trying to take control of the storming wrath within him. It wasn't until the strain of his grip on the mug weakened did he turn to Ser Godric with nearly sorry eyes and knit brows, "S-she happens to be a friend of mine, please don't speak ill of her." The accompanying templars shared a surprised exchange, before Godric looked back at Cullen with a glib expression as he downed the remaining ale in his goblet. Mathias stayed cautiously neutral, making eyes for a senior templar elsewhere attending lunch.

"Just a friend?" Godric piped, vainly probing the angry templar. "Are you saying you'd never want to see the mage on her knees?" the statement was received with a piercing stare, dark even for Cullen, but the more tempting for the narcissistic templar. "You would wouldn't you? Just imaging those velvet lips at your loins gets your tongue wagging out your mouth," the irate templar couldn't refrain from reddening at the provocative thought, but he was becoming even more irked by Godric's immature antics. "Too bad though," he smirked, "she's already gone in done that in the library with that mage."

Cullen flung to his feet, unable to hold back the fist in his lap. In a matter of seconds, his gauntlet knuckles brushed past Godric's dodging head, but not before leaving behind a minor gash that began to bleed. From behind him, Mathias had jumped into action, holding back Cullen while another templar had stepped in to keep Godric from attacking back. While the templar was still vexed and seething, struggling to free himself of Mathias' grip, Godric seemed to snap free of his superficial pedestal and was faintly shaking his head. Both Cullen and Mathias noticed the strange transaction in their friend, as if he had come out of some sort of trance. He dizzily looked up at Cullen, regretful, "I am sorry Cullen, I don't know why I said those things?" The sincerity of his apology was troubling and Cullen's lingering hand at the hilt of his sword fell back to his side. "I'm sorry," Godric repeated, noticing the slight blood oozing from his wound.

"It- it's fine," Cullen stammered, shaking off Mathias' weakening grip on him. The fourth templar appeared to be as shocked as the others, turning cautiously when a fifth templar approached the ruffle. The fifth was none other than Hadley, whom scanned each of the younger templars scornfully, but said nothing regarding the scuffle.

"We've had an escaped apprentice," he informed the small group, looming over the idea of questioning the few templars of the prior issue. However, Hadley sighed and shook his head in disappointment. "Your little cat fight will have to wait until later," he went on to say, "right now I need you all to search the apprentice quarters for any clues to how he had escaped." There was unison of nods from the templars, "Good, now finish your lunch and get back to your duties. And Cullen?" The named templar felt the eyes of his fellows side glance at him momentarily, "The Knight-Commander wishes to speak with you in his office immediately."

Cullen stuttered, "M-may I ask why Ser?"

"He needs to ask you of your friend, Astrid."

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><p>Astrid was alone when dawn broke through her room. She felt sheepishly for a warm body to curl into, but found none. Confounded, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the shimmering sunlight streaming through the bars of her high window. Her hand stroked the length of the disturbed sheets, the warmth of a missing body only barely lingering to the touch. The young mage disappointedly withdrew her hand, tucking it beneath her feather pillow; she had never awakened alone. Astrid rolled onto her back, rather confused and a little hurt. When she and Cullen were rendezvousing, she had always found herself waking in his arms if she had fallen asleep. The very thought brought her to close her eyes tightly and sigh deeply, she was thinking intimately of him again. Now restless, she sat-up and found herself bare save for the heavy quilt at her waist.<p>

The stress of yesterday's service had finally allowed her to give into the pressing temptation that was Anders, although the timid templar had crossed her mind scarcely throughout their embrace. The mage had romanced her in ways Cullen had not, even though she couldn't blame him for that; both had been complete novices to intimacy until that night in the chantry. And even though everything had felt so right, Astrid couldn't help but be aware of how wrong it felt too. She sighed again, racking her mind for answers while picking her garments from the cold floor. The mage padded to her trunk for a clean pair of small-clothes and robes, bothered by Anders' disappearance some point in the night. She dressed and combed through he hair with her fingers, growing worried, had Anders left intentionally after they had done the deed? The thought caught her in her tracks, was she just a conquest?

It was a struggle to wrap her mind around the concept, but Astrid needed to see Anders', to ask him if last night was as real for him as it was for her. So she bustled out of her room, nervously making the walk down the corridor to the great hall where she hoped to find him. Astrid remembered the travel from her room into the dining hall as a great blur, even when she didn't find the mage there and had carried on into a library. It wasn't the library Astrid normally frequented, but one most rather used for training by the Enchanters for apprentices and where summoning trials took place. This was also the same library she had shared her first kiss with Anders, just an innocent gesture then. He was sitting alone at a table when she spotted him, buried among a pile of opened books. The magess approached him wearily, unsure what to say.

He looked up at the sound of her footsteps, gathering himself to his feet and smiling; shoving the book he was reading beneath another. Astrid forced a smile back, biting her lip nervously. "How are you feeling?" he asked of her, cradling her face between both his hands before kissing her plainly against the lips. The touch soothed her nerves, but only barely. "I'm sorry, I-I couldn't barely hold back last night," he spoke soon after departing their lips, sending a red blush across Astrid's cheeks. She remembered lucidly of their first night together, the romantic steady pace at first and then the desperate clinging as he ravished her. The mage stroked her cheek with his thumb, leading her to an empty chair beside him. Her face was still warm, how was she not the slightest bit sore from last night? As if on cue, Anders answered her curious question. "I wasn't sure hard I might have been on you, so I heeled you a bit before leaving last night," he answered, drawing her attention away from the books he was moving aside.

"Why did you leave?" she blurted, eying the mage under dark lashes. He paused, as if to ponder an answer, which worried Astrid more than she liked. Anders touched her hand and smiled comfortingly at her.

"I didn't want to be caught if someone were to come check on you," he answered clearly. "I'm sure another mage wouldn't have minded, but a templar," he paused, the charming features of his face turning into disgust at the word, "they would surely use it against us." That unattractive feat of Anders was full bloom, the endless hatred for the templars and their apparent conspiracies against the mages. Astrid wasn't about to disagree that some templars were ruthless and wicked, but the templars of the circle were neither. She had met most and had never felt threatened or disliked strongly by either of them, although lately they were having a party over the finding of her and Anders in the other library. The red headed mage understood that Anders seeked acceptance and freedom, both of which were clearly not within the circle, but he craved them; which was why he had fled so many times.

Astrid squeezed his hand, "Anders I'm sure the templars don't care." He looked at her bewildered and shook his head, even weakly smirking at her. She subconsciously withdrew her hand from him, surprised by his responsive look.

"You don't realize how they look at you do you?" Anders spoke smoothly, careful with the volume of his voice. The young mage stared back at him in disbelief, a dark feeling lurking over her. "A few have been watching you, longingly, as I have," he continued, eyes wandering across the library, "wanting to feel and touch you." Astrid didn't like where this was going, she mindfully looked at her surroundings, holding in a gasp when she saw that two conversing templars were watching her from a distance. She averted her eyes back to Anders, whom seemed to have picked-up on the templars as well. "And lately, it's like they've all been watching you," he sneered. The charming mage reached for Astrid's hand and clasped it between his own, both rough and rugged from years of staff use. There was a seriousness in his eyes that was frightening and took all she had to keep herself from frightfully turning away. "If they knew of our feelings for one another, they'd use it to tear us apart," he sadly said, "I can't- won't let them do that."

The mage was aware there weren't any strict rules against mild relations between mages. It was only when they had progressed into a sexual nature and a mage had become pregnant because of it that the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander would have to take notice. That was the case for Wynne, who became with child after sharing the company with another mage one night. When the child was delivered, the baby was whisked away from Wynne and she was too weak to fight back. The Senior Mage had only shared this tale recently with Astrid, when her curiosity of relationships brought her to ask the old mage about the Circle's opinions of the matter. While Astrid believed her relationship with Anders was purely within the limits, as long as they took care of necessary precautions, the relentless pursuit to spite the templars was pushing it.

Astrid opened her mouth to comfort any doubt the mage had, but they were soon met with the Senior Mage herself: Wynne. "There you are!" she said in relief, pacing towards their table. Momentarily eye balling Anders before peering at Astrid, "Aneirin has escaped the circle!" Wynne was in a state of panic that she young mage had never seen her in, which immediately displaced her concern for Anders rebellious antics.

Astrid stood as did Anders, "I'll leave you two alone." She watched him wander off, Wynne shaking her head shakily to the side. The old mage looked pale in fret, swaying where she stood. Astrid went to stand beside her mentor, carefully keeping her standing.

"He'll be fine Wynne, the templars will find him and bring him back," she soothed, bringing the withering woman into an open chair at the same table. The old mage shook her head again, massaging her forehead with her fingers.

"This is all my fault," Wynne sighed, "I shouldn't have been so hard on him." Astrid found a tray of water left in the library and brought a glass to Wynne, who took a tiny sip before waving it away. "I tried so hard to make him as accepting of the circle as you are, but perhaps I pushed him too hard," she went on, sighing loudly, "he had so much potential." She was ready to comfort Wynne, but she was unsure what to say, because suddenly the senior mage was smiling. "I suppose I was being too motherly on him, after raising you," she tipped Astrid's chin so that she could see her face more clearly, "I guess I was holding him to the same standards as you."

"I'm sorry Wynne," Astrid whispered, slinking down into an old chair. A puzzled look crossed the old mage's face and she sat-up more properly in her seat, reaching for both of Astrid's hands.

"No need dear, raising you was perhaps the happiest years of my life," her smile was comforting, "When I took Aneirin in, I guess my motherly ways just sort of carried over." Astrid faintly smiled back, Wynne was truly the only mother she had ever had. "This Circle may be all you know Astrid, but you must always follow your heart." Heart, what was it in Astrid's heart that she wanted? "I assume that's what Aneirin did, or at least I hope so."

"He did Wynne, you've taught us well."


	13. Troubled

**Finally finished this chapter! I wanted this chapter to end dramatically, but I don't think I quite executed that...oh well. The next few parts are going to be super fun to write, they'll probably be mildly violent and some sexual content, just a heads-up. I'll probably be posting the second chapter to my other story, A Warden's Rose, so please check it out guys and let me know what you think? I'm totally in-love with the Cousland character I've developed and think she'll turn out to be an interesting one :) Anyways, thanks again to everyone who has faved and alerted this story, 13 people already! Don't forget to squeeze in a review if you can, but I understand if you can't. Enjoy! And yes, this chapter has a lame name, ha.**

**Btw, Adrianne Whitt now has 11 lovely chapters to her story: A Grey Warden Sacrifices More Than Love. It's a fun read, and I can't wait for more :D**

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><p>XII. TROUBLED<p>

"You have known Astrid since you first came to the Circle, is that correct?"

Cullen was not relishing being in the office of the Knight-Commander, whom was restlessly pacing back and fourth behind his old desk. The young templar was watching his superior with worried eyes, wondering why he had been brought here to discuss Astrid, of all things. Greagoir was stroking his greying beard, hand behind back and continued to march the length of his office. He was aware the situation had turned rather tricky, Cullen knew he had to be honest but going on about doing it was an entirely difficult task. "Yes Ser, I've known the mage since I first came to the circle," he slowly confirmed, careful not to falter so early in the interrogation. The Knight-Commander paused briefly in his patrol, gazing down his nose at the templar with curious eyes. Cullen felt his hands becoming clammy and neck sweaty.

"Have you...ever dreamt of the mage?" Obvious panic crossed the young templar's face, which brought the Knight-Commander to a standstill. Cullen avoided the narrowing gaze of the elder templar, careful not give away anymore of his guilt. A curious humph came from Greagoir before he finally slunk down into his broad chair, again looking deep in thought. "Many templars have come to me with reports of strange disturbing dreams, many involving a woman with an appearance similar to that of the mage Astrid," Cullen could tell he was trying to catch his dodging eyes, "which is why I asked to speak with you." The templar's worry of his darkest secret being exposed was suddenly being overshadowed by the fact that many of his fellow men were having lusty dreams of Astrid, maybe even as sultry and dark as his was the night prior. The Knight-Commander was still troubled by Cullen's silence, but went on, "You know her better than most, does she have anything to do with this?"

The very concept of Astrid purposely plaguing the dreams of templars was completely absurd, she would kill a man with kindness before striking them down in their dreams. Determined to relieve the suspicion from Astrid, Cullen shook his head confidently and met the aging eyes of his superior. "You've known her since she was a babe Ser, Astrid Amell has no reason to bring harm to the templars," he paused to finish his thoughts before continuing, "She's perhaps the only mage with complete respect and trust in the order." The young templar never realized how true his words are, even from their first meeting, Astrid had shown him an unexpected gentleness than most of the other mages had. While the others rolled their eyes and scoffed under their breaths, this particular magess had made the effort to befriend him. Just thinking of her harming a templar made him feel rather silly.

"Astrid has proven herself an excellent example of a tolerant mage," the Knight-Commander agreed, glancing down at the papers of his desk. "None the less, I want you to keep an eye on our exceptional mage. Anything out of the ordinary and you report immediately to me, understood?" Cullen couldn't have nodded any quicker, his plans to dodge the mage at any sign of her suddenly fizzling right before him. Knight-Commander Greagoir appeared confident that the problem would be solved soon, waving at the young templar, "Well that is all, you may go and attend your duties." And just quickly as the templar had nodded he was on the other side of the door, ready to casually return to his patrols, but Hadley had been waiting for him against the wall.

"Ser Hadley?" Cullen stammered, trying not to look as worried as he was coming out of the Knight-Commander's office.

The templar quickly waved for Cullen to follow him, "You need not worry Cullen, I merely wish to chat about what happened at lunch." The seriousness of Hadley's face was worrisome and the young templar feared he may have to talk his away out of a tricky situation again. The two walked cautiously through the templar corridor, Hadley making eyes at anyone who passed them. "I'm afraid Ser Godric wasn't the first outburst as of lately," he nearly whispering, making sure the others weren't noticing. "Just last night, when the men were enjoying a few rounds of ale," he went on in hush, "Ser Carroll made rather crude remarks about a mage temptress from his recent dreams." The connections Hadley was making began to stir terrible feelings, and it was becoming more difficult to not worry for Astrid.

"What are you suggesting?" Cullen asked plainly, trying to be just as quite as the elder templar was being.

"I'm suggesting that my templar senses are telling me something wicked is at work in the Circle," Hadley finally answered, "ever since the mages returned from Ostagar, something has been amiss." The templar's words struck Cullen cold, whom had subtly began to notice the strange behaviors of the mages as well; easily offended and not mourning so much for their fallen peers. Besides the obviously still distraught Astrid and the apprentices, the majority of the mages that survived the battle of Ostagar were watching the templars much closer. However, this still didn't explain the suspicious dreams and behaviors of the templars. "Greagoir suspects it's just a mage toying with us," Hadley stopped momentarily at the end of the corridor, trying to phrase his next set of words correctly. "You're sure your mage friend has nothing to do with this?" he suddenly asked, "She was rather upset when she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens-"

"No!" Cullen harshly responded, although there was suddenly a lingering doubt.

"I understand," Hadley said, "Now you should get back to your patrol, if I learn anything more I'll come find you. I hope you will at least do the same?" The frustrated templar nodded his head and watched Hadley's back as he backtracked to his office. Cullen felt the templar was right though, something terrible was brewing within the tower.

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><p>It was a difficult task comforting the old mage, whose recent experience with darkspawn had made the news of Aneirin's escape trouble her more. Astrid decided to spend the rest of her day at Wynne's side, although the senior mage continued to insist she would be perfectly fine on her own. She joined her at dinner along with the other apprentices under her care, although any resemblance of a conversation had been kept at a minimum; no one knew what to say. "What do you say to someone who has lost one important to them?" one had asked of Astrid, when Wynne excused herself to use the bathroom. The young mage shrugged, she knew the pain of loosing someone, but that was death. This was an apprentice that escaped the tower, placing himself in danger of the raging Blight. Not knowing what was going to happen to him was the pain Wynne was feeling and Astrid wasn't sure how to properly address advice to the apprentices.<p>

After it was clear Wynne was no longer going to touch her barely eaten meal, Astrid walked with her to her room, knowing the old mage would welcome sleep early tonight. She stood by the doorway as the senior mage both sighed and yawned on the way to her bed, shaking her head in disbelief still. When Wynne sat promptly on the edge of her bed, she looked up at Astrid, suddenly smiling. "Thank you dear, for all you've done today," she commented sheepishly, tiredly yawning again. "Now," Wynne went on, "I think I shall turn in and get some decent rest." Astrid nodded, agreeing with the idea. Since returning from Ostagar and being a senior healer mage, Wynne had been spending long hours healing the rest of the wounded. She was glad to know the mage was finally going to get a long night of sleep in. "Goodnight Astrid," she called after her as the young mage stepped back into the corridor, silently smiling as she closed the door behind her.

Astrid made the decision to turn in early as well, it had been a long day after all. She wondered what compelled Aneirin to escape as she walked solemnly towards her room, at the furthest end of the corridor. Sure he had disagreements with Wynne sometimes and felt more so of an outcast because he was both a mage and an elf, but the young red head just couldn't find an answer. Perhaps she never would, Astrid had never known what life was like outside the circle; so that freedom to live as you please, she had never experienced. She may have been told of it and dreamt of it ever so often, but the actual knowledge and experience was unknown to her; for once that bothered her. Suddenly the tower she had called home her entire life felt tiny compared to the world outside these walls, and she was going to blame Anders for these strange new thoughts.

She wondered if Anders would come to her room again tonight as she rounded the corner, unexpectedly seeing a templar waiting impatiently by her door. The conversation with Anders in the library abruptly returned to mind and the young mage watched curiously as Cullen marched back and fourth. Was the paranoid mage implying that it was Cullen whose always been watching her longingly? The thought reminded her of the time Myrah too had mentioned the templar's gaze always following her. Astrid suddenly felt like she had butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. Had Cullen always watched her? Wanted her? Was that night in the chapel really more than a burst of suppressed curiosity and lust? Did Cullen always make her feel this way? The young mage was lost in her thoughts, trying to find the answers. "Astrid?" she turned and batted her eyes in surprise, when had the templar gotten so close to her?

"A-are you alright?" he muttered in a low voice. She watched as the templar carefully looked down both ends of the corridor, "There's been strange things happening within the tower."

Astrid looked at him puzzled, "What do you mean?"

He seemed to carefully think of what to say next, "The templars have been having strange dreams, bad dreams."

The young mage curiously gaped at Cullen, "Have you been having these strange dreams?"

The templar's face went pale and he purposely tore his gaze away from hers; and it pained her so see his gaze wander about their feet. It was obvious he had and Astrid wondered just how terrible these dreams were, but before should could ask, Cullen drew himself further from her lingering hand reaching for his forearm. "Your mage will come to see you tonight again I assume," he suddenly exclaimed," you wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"Cullen, what are you..." At first she was confused by the sneer of his statement and the cross, but sad, look of his face. Then the dawning of his words came to her and Astrid felt her face redden and her eyes widen. He knew, Cullen knew. The templar looked down at her hurt and angry, but said nothing further. He bowed his head with a frown and walked past her, the clunking of his boots disappearing behind her. The mage stood frozen at first, and for the first time, Astrid felt nothing but guilt for her relationship with Anders.

It suddenly grew cold in the passage and Astrid was unable to shake the shameful feeling of haven slept with Anders. She went into her room trying to ignore the sudden urge to cry, but the mage couldn't exactly say why. The door clicked quietly behind her and she roamed to her trunk, ready to prepare for the night. Astrid began to strip free of her clingy robes, noticing the room grow chiller with every layer she peeled off; strangely chiller. The mage couldn't help but look over her shoulder when she was now in her small clothes, feeling as if someone was watching her from the shadowy corner of her room. Quickly she slipped into her linen tunic, that feeling still there when she looked back at the corner, almost darker than it had been. Astrid carefully approached the corner, not knowing what to expect, but that dark feeling was too sickly to ignore.

Just as she was within yards of the corner, an abrupt sharp knock came to her door, and the interruption brought the feeling to a sudden halt. Astrid's eyes lingered on the corner as she backed up towards the door, reaching blindly for the iron handle. Upon swinging the door open, she was met with Anders, whom was forcing a smile. "May I come in?" he asked, although the tone of his voice was almost desperate. The young mage paused to answer, shakily nodding after sneaking a peek back at that haunting corner. He quickly walked by her, waiting for the door to close before he spun her around into his arms and into a fiery kiss. Astrid recalled the icy touch of his smooth lips across his skin, and then the hurt look of Cullen's face. Slowly, but suddenly, she broke the kiss. "I'm sorry," Anders said, "I've been waiting to see you."

"I've been with Wynne since you departed earlier," she answered him watchfully, noticing the anxiety in his eyes. He was walking to and fro before her, more nervous than she had ever seen him.

"And how long were you talking to that templar?" he sternly questioned, stopping in the center of her room.

Astrid didn't like where this conversation was immediately heading, "Only a few minutes." He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, but hastily hid any doubt he might have had. The young magess didn't like how he began to pace her room again, looking at her as he walked in one direction and turning away to look at the ground as he made his way towards the opposite wall. It was nerve-wrecking and an obvious sign that Anders was bothered by something. Astrid stepped forward to catch him in his path, "Anders whats wrong?"

He looked down at her, taking her hands into his. "You know how I've told you the templars would use this-" he paused to gently kiss the palms of her hands, "against us?" She nodded stiffly, not liking the turn of things. "Well they've done it," he stated, "those bloody templars do nothing but talk inappropriately of you, torturing me with false tales of promiscuity and sneaking into templars' beds!" The grip on her hands suddenly grew a little painful and Astrid winced away, disturbed by what Anders was saying. "They call you a whore when I'm around, purposely trying to get a stir from me-" Anders hands had curled into strong fists, and she could feel the magic in the air thicken. "This is but a game to them, you understand don't you?" he moved closer to her again, "We can't stay here."

"Cullen told me there was something strange happening to the templars-" Astrid curtly added to the conversation, seeing that mentioning the templar by name had only angered the mage more. However, she went on, "That has to be why they are saying the things they are."

"You just can't accept that templars are bad men!" he yelled, regretting the moment he rose his voice. Astrid shook her head and turned away from him, ignoring Anders as he came to stand beside her. "Don't you care about us?" Astrid intended to purposely take her time in answering the mage, but was finding herself stumbling none the less. She wanted to say yes, that falling for Anders was what she most desired, but suddenly those happy moments spent with him were overshadowed by the awkward interactions with a templar, that lusty hazy night in the chapel. His hand touched her arm and Astrid felt unsure, "Come away with me."

Anders spun her around again, forcefully kissing her tender lips and roaming his hands at the length of her curves. It was amazing, but unwanted, which was made obvious by Astrid's lack of participation on the kiss. The mage pulled away, but not discouraged, "I have a plan, we can escape together tonight." She could barely move, was he honestly proposing to escape the Circle? "We'll flee Ferelden, travel as far as our hearts desire," he went on to say with a smile, encouraging and warm.

If she left with Anders, she would be leaving behind everything she has ever known, and finally have a taste of this freedom the mages and Anders ranted about. They could see all of Thedas, there would be no tower walls to prevent her from experiencing a normal life. Astrid found herself smiling, carefully imaging being a normal woman doing normal things; there would be no templars to stop her, or templar. The glee fell from her face and the mage found herself wondering of the people she would leave behind, but no other as strongly as she was Cullen. The very concept of never seeing him again had her step away from Anders and shaking her head, forgetting Cullen was a painful thought. "I can't."

"There's nothing here for you Astrid," he argued, "come with me and we can live as free mages-"

"No Anders, this is where I belong," she replied, interrupting his words.

"You don't even know what kind of life you could have?" he angry spoke back, his brows knitting together in fury.

Astrid nodded, "I know I am happy here, where I am...with you." She reached for his cold hands, only because she felt she had to. Anders seemed only slightly pleased, but remained resilient.

"But I'm not," he replied, "This tower is a prison Astrid, and as long as I remain within its walls I will never be happy!"

Astrid released his hands and eyed him insulted, "Then go Anders." Her voice was icy and bold, her tired eyes narrowly peered at him, and most of all, she felt betrayed. The magess had happily given herself to him, but now she was nothing unless Astrid fled with him. "There is obviously nothing holding you back," Astrid went on to say in a shaken voice, moving her gaze away from the damned mage. There was a long nerve wrenching silence, as Anders tried to retort what he had said, but the damage had been done. As he moved to touch her again, she flinched away and continued to avoid his eyes. "Just go Anders," she demanded, swinging her hand in gesture towards the door. The mage appeared surprised, trying to hold onto any minute he might be able to convince her, but Astrid was unfazed. She walked towards her bed, "Close the door behind you." With that, she heard the soft tap of his boots towards the sealed doorway, fading quickly behind the closed door. Astrid sunk into the surface of her bed, rolling onto her side, wondering if she had made a mistake.


	14. In The Shadows

**So I love this chapter! It's so angsty and dark and mysterious, or to me at least. I'm sure you readers know whats coming up in the next few chapters, it's going to be fun to write this entire major part of the game that was never really experienced except towards the end. So writing how it started and what happens before the Wardens arrive is gonna be interesting. As always, thanks to everyone whom has faved and alerted this story, I can't thank you guys enough. Continue to review, my three reviewers I have, lol. And I will probably post a A Warden's Rose chapter before the next chapter, but it'll be soon!**

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><p>XIV. IN THE SHADOWS<p>

Three heavy thuds echoed loudly into her bedchamber, startling Astrid from a long needed slumber. She wanted nothing more than to ignore the knock at her door, to turn into her pillow, close her eyes, and relive that sweet dream she was having; but the three knocks were followed by another round of urgent poundings. Sighing, the mage slid herself from bed and dragged her feet across the stone floor to answer the door; yawning once her hand reached the iron set handle. Her eyes were barely open and still blurry from heavily sleeping when she swung open the door just a fraction to the company of three templars, all armed and fully garnished in their armor. As her vision cleared, the young mage was struggling to register what was suddenly happening. One of the three templars reached through the doorway to haul her into the hallway, holding her roughly by the arm; his gauntlets digging into her bare forearm. Another templar came to her other side, grabbing her as well, and then they began to pull Astrid along.

She didn't know whether to struggle or give in, sleep still fogging her judgement of the event before her. It was only as a familiar voice pierced the ringing silence did she begin to waken, acknowledging that these templars were apprehending her. "I said gently!" his voice carried over the rattle of armor and suddenly the firm grip on her arms ceased, replaced by a much softer touch. Astrid craned her head to see a stern Cullen, both angry and worried, but keeping his head high for the other templars. She wanted nothing more than to call his name, to have him look at her as he use to: admiring and happy; but she had tore that right out of him. However, she needed to tell him something, but as she opened her mouth to speak they were now storming down the staircase.

Through the apprentice quarters they moved swiftly and down onto the main floor of the Circle tower, where Cullen's gentle hold on her was nervously squeezing tighter. Astrid continued to watch him under her lashes, trying to decipher the worry in those cold blue eyes. She felt he was seconds away from finally looking at her, but a clutter of motion and others drew her focus away. The young mage was now in the presence of several templars, just as armored as the others, and with the Knight-Commander standing authoritatively before them. His gaze was hard and strictly upon her as she stumbled into his company, feeling the reluctant release of her arm from Cullen. Astrid saw them all watching her through their helmets and she suddenly wished she had grabbed her robe.

"Astrid Amell, you are under the suspicion of aiding a mage in escaping the tower," the Knight-Commander's statement made her entire body fall still, "therefore I must sentence you to solitary confinement until the matter has been settled." Again templars were on her and this time she struggled, although it was no use against the templars ability to dispel her magic. Astrid stole a glance at Cullen, who was now watching painfully as she was being yanked towards the basement doorway; she'd never been so mortified in her entire life. When the floundering had done her no good, the young mage gave in to the tug and pull of her templar escorts, unable to look at Cullen again as she disappeared into the basement.

By luck, she had been delivered into one of the more tidy cells, although the smell was still there. The other cells were all empty, the only other person in the basement with her being a templar guard. Astrid tucked herself into a corner of the dungeon, finally understanding how Anders had felt those long nights. She scowled, that damn mage, Astrid knew this had to be his doing; he actually escaped. A part of her felt abandoned and rejected by his break out, and the other part was just happy he was gone, but she didn't know why. The bloody mage had made her happy, made her feel loved and wanted; and when they had finally slept together, it wasn't enough. Astrid knew she'd be hurt by his leaving her, but it was for the better. Something had always felt misplaced, or gone. What?, she didn't know, and it was something she began to ponder for hours in her cell.

As time ticked by, Astrid was wondering if the sun was up yet or if the birds were singing outside her window; but then again, maybe it wasn't morning yet, just a few hours after she'd been forced into the basement. She'd casually fallen in and out of sleep, unable to keep her eyes shut with a draft throughout the chamber and the uncomfortable eyes of the templar watching her. Suddenly self-conscious, she tried to stretch her tunic to cover more skin, but to no avail. She wondered when they would come for her, to interrogate her about that blasted Anders; what would she say? Astrid decided she would tell the truth no matter what. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander knew her enough to believe her, or at least she hoped so. If they didn't, she may be made Tranquil or sent to Aeonar, both were very unpleasant ideas.

She began to shake off the fear when the footsteps of someone approaching came within ear shot. Astrid turned her head against the wall, shocked to see a dressed down Cullen relieving the creepy templar from his guard. The templar hastily made his way back to the surface, while her former lover dragged a stool to sit in front of her cold cell. He looked at her just as pained as before, although this time Cullen wasn't avoiding her returning gaze. "So your lover escaped," the templar declared in a frigid manner, careless to the hurt that crossed her face. Astrid turned away, guilty. "Did you give him a passionate good bye-"

"Cullen!" Astrid cried, now realizing the templar had seen far more than a bit of foreplay between her and the mage. She felt dirty knowing he saw her like that, erotic and vocal. "He was a mistake," she replied, as if trying to justify her night with Anders. Cullen smirked, which only brought more surprise to the mage.

"A mistake huh?" he muttered, "like we were?" A tremble ran through her body and a tear finally escaped her emotional wall. Astrid crawled to her feet, shaking her head and then turning her back to Cullen. She had to say something.

"You were never a mistake Cullen," she sobbed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "That night in the chapel, I've never forgotten it," Astrid closed her eyes to reminisce the moment. "Your gentle passionate kisses, how you carefully ran your fingers along my skin, and how you took me so amorously and forbiddingly on the chapel floor," a shaky sigh left her dry lips, "I remember every second, and have never regretted any moment spent with you Cullen."

Unexpectedly, Astrid felt cold hands rub the length of her arms and spinning her around tenderly when they had reached her hips. She hadn't heard him unlock the padlock on the cell door and relieve himself of his shirt, but the mage could care less. He pressed his forehead against hers, rising his hands to cup the curves of her face. The mage gaped at the dark eyes of Cullen, his steamy breath just barely inches from her parched mouth. She moved into him, pressing the contours of her figure into the sculpture of his body, and that was it. Cullen dipped lower to kiss her carnally on the lips, parting her lips voluntarily with his thumb and snaking his tongue along hers; which she noticed was quite long. Astrid clung to him, gripping at the muscles of his back to be closer, feeling his icy hands leave her face and back at her hips.

She moaned loudly into his mouth, quivering as his gentle touch began to push up the hem of her night shirt. One hand moved underneath her tunic, groping aggressively at her sensitive breast and gently pinching her nipple. Astrid pulled away from the kiss and gasped, exposing the flesh of her neck to his wondering mouth as he licked the length of her nape. Cullen nipped at her collar bone and sucked on her shoulder, now trying to completely remove the fabric keeping him from her swelling bosom. Her knees became weak and Astrid fell into the templar, he lowered them onto the dirt covered ground and her into his lap. Astrid pulled his mouth back into hers, becoming cold as he removed her brassiere and worked at the binding of her underthings.

When she was completely naked and now entirely impatient, she pleaded for him to take her, biting softly on his lower lip. Cullen followed her demand, using one hand to undo the drawstrings of his breeches while the other held her up by the waist. He didn't even given her a moment to look when the templar forced her onto him, inhaling sharply as he did. Astrid bit his shoulder, trying to wait for the bewildered pain to pass. She found herself remembering the pain the first time, the guilty apologizes Cullen made, one after the other. It made her wonder why it hurt now, after many times of doing it before; was it that ache for him she had been ignoring recently? The mage dug her nails along his back and Cullen held her securely by the derrière before moving.

Astrid rolled her head back and arched herself against him, gasping when the angle was perfect. She stared at the ceiling with rolling eyes, noticing the sudden blackness of the cell as Cullen advanced into her. The mage couldn't help but feel being watched and that something was amiss amongst all this sexual bliss. A hot grunt vibrated from the templar's throat as he pushed faster, Astrid wrapped her arms around him, staring now over the broadness of his shoulder. She couldn't see a thing; it was as if they had disappeared into nothingness. Suddenly she felt Cullen's nails dig viciously into her thighs and his mouth chomp down on her lip; Astrid winced and tightly shut her eyes in pain. "You're a...disgusting...mage."

There was nothing there. Astrid's eyes snapped open and she was alone, clothed, and utterly alone. Her entire body was covered in gooseflesh and there was a cold sweat about her brow. The terrified mage glanced nervously about her cell, unable to control her shaking, or look away from that reoccurring dark corner in the chamber. Astrid uneasily licked her lip, catching her breath when she tasted iron. A trembling hand reached slowly for her mouth, feeling the sting of the wound on her bottom lip, and pulling away to see vibrant red blood. Almost in a panic, Astrid pulled herself to her feet and to the furthest point away from that haunting corner. She wanted to call to the guard, realizing it was the same templar as before, although he wasn't looking as hungrily at her as he had been. Fear planted a nightmare into her thoughts as she desperately tried to fathom what had just happened.

"-release her now!" A high voice demanded from the doorway into the chamber where all the cells were built, causing the bored templar guard to get to his feet. There was another disgruntled comment, followed by another voice, but Astrid was far to confused to hear the voices clearly. Then, to her relief, Wynne appeared; moving quickly past the fumbling guard and to the mage's cell. Astrid distraughtly moved to the cell door, peering suspiciously over her shoulder. "Now would be a good time! We don't have all day!" The young mage couldn't begin to explain how happy she was to hear the old mage's motherly reprimanding. The templar guard was rushing to turn the key in the lock, the senior mage tapping her foot and staring knives and daggers at the templar that had followed her into the basement. There was a distinct click of the latch and Astrid felt the cell door pry open from her weight leaning against it.

Wynne reached for her, placing a warm arm around the frightened mage's shoulders and taking immediate notice to Astrid's bloody lip. "Did the templars touch you child?" the old mage was using her own sleeve to wipe away the already dried blood, and the young mage could feel the numbness of it being healed. Astrid shook her head and felt dizzy, wobbling into Wynne and being helped by the templar guard. "Thank you young man, if you would help me bring her up from the basement please," she asked kindly, to which no man could refuse her grandmotherly ways. He nervously held her by the waist, and draped a cold arm about his armored shoulders. "Do you know how she inquired her injury Ser?" Wynne went on to ask as they passed through the doorway, held open by the other templar.

The guard vigorously shook his head, his helmet slightly turning back and fourth as he did so, "She was thrashing about in her sleep ol' miss, she must've hit herself on somethin'." Astrid looked up at Wynne from the corner of her eyes, noticing the clear doubt across her aged features. They took her into a long corridor, where the familiar bulk of doors just ahead were slowly being opened by two templars standing guard. Emerging from the basement was rather miserable, the young mage had to squint her eyes from the sunlight pouring through the darkness and she was met with the familiar crowd of templars; however, this time the First Enchanter was at the Knight-Commander's side.

"Not now Greagoir, this girl needs some rest," Wynne snapped as the head templar opened his mouth to speak. Irving nodded at the senior mage's request and moved aside for them to pass, Astrid still trying to adjust to the blunt brightness of the room. The templar helping her moved away, but Astrid was still weak and nearly fell flat on her face. "You there, help me," the young mage gazed up at the templar she addressed, coincidentally being Cullen. He didn't hesitate as he stepped towards her and nor did he struggle when he swept her into his arms, completely relieving Wynne from holding her up.

Astrid grasped him, holding his scorching body heat emitting from his open collar to warm her freezing arms around his neck, nuzzling her head against the plate on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and felt safe, this was the real Cullen. Her body cradled as they moved, a worried Wynne urging the templar to quicken his step. The young mage couldn't get over how warm he was compared to that version of him in her dreams and Anders, both cold to the touch. She was on the brink of tears, mourning that their atonement had been nothing but a dark fantasy that left her with a bloody lip. However, Astrid knew one thing, Anders had been a mistake and everything she wanted was now standing patiently at the opening of her bedchamber. She felt both a fool and a coward, she had tried so hard to reject the lingering sentiments of feelings after their first night together; Astrid even tried to drive him away. Why did it have to take her so long to understand? "Lie her there on the bed, I'll fetch some water," Wynne's voice woke her from tormenting epiphany in her head, and she watched over the templar's shoulder as her skirt disappeared around the corner.

Cullen carefully sat her on the bed, holding her up as she swayed, still so weak. Finally she fell back against Myrah's quilt, her red hair tucked and spilled around her, she smelt just slightly dewy from time spent in the cell. Cullen began to pull away from her and as it felt like the last time he might touch her, Astrid despairingly held him back by the wrist. He stood frozen in her grasp, still purposely avoiding her face as she stared at him through her dark long lashes. She needed him to look at her, to see that she was guilty and sorry for all she had done. "I...you...C-Cullen," her voice came out as a raspy tremble, and barely audible, but she prayed to the Maker he heard; she had never prayed so hard. But his hand slipped through her cold fingers and the templar was growing in distance away from her.

"The senior mage will be back." She watched him leave her behind, Astrid's hand still stretched out for him. Cullen was then gone, and she suddenly felt empty. The young mage curled into her bed, she had ruined everything.

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><p>Cullen was actually fleeing from Astrid, not even bothering to answer to the perplexed senior mage when he nearly knocked her back. Every step, he was escaping from what he wanted most. He couldn't bring himself to believe those last breathy words, even though her eyes were glistening with held back emotion and she held to him so tightly in such a fragile state. After her rejection and betrayal, how could he just melt back into long gentle arms? It was far too late to turn back now, no matter how much he wanted to. Cullen knew this was for the best, a mage and a templar were never meant to be. At that he stopped in the stairway, something taunting urging him to turn around, and when he didn't a icy chill ran the length of his spine. He quickly left the floor and back to where the Knight-Commander would be waiting.<p>

Greagoir was busy arguing with the First Enchanter, whom he had never heard raise his voice before until now. After the other mage had escaped the night prior, it had become mandatory for the templars to check on all the mages once they were all back in their rooms. It was during this time that a templar had reported to the Knight-Commander that Anders, that bloody mage, had escaped. And because of the obvious relationship he had with Astrid, she immediately fell suspect to aiding his escape and possibly following after. Irving was enraged over the very idea, and while Greagoir himself had doubts, it was his templar duty to take the necessary precautions. Which was why Cullen was assigned alongside four others to find Astrid and bring her to him.

The templar went to join Godric and Mathias, as Hadley stepped in to settle the dispute between the templar and mage. Cullen's mind was boggling, but he took a keen interest in the ghastly pale complexion of Mathias, whom was trying his best to keep former. He looked on curiously until the templar noticed him, "Cullen, may I have a word?" The usually humorous but calm Mathias was struggling to stay composed. He didn't wait for the templar but went on to find a private place for them to speak. Cullen was wary of whether to follow, but the fear in Mathias' eyes were convincing enough. So after glancing back at the fuming opposites, he followed in the footsteps of his friend.

Mathias led far enough where they wouldn't be heard and promptly began pacing, to which only worried Cullen more as he neared. The templar watched, waiting for the other to start, and he did, only after he'd run a troubled hand down his stoic face. "I had a dream last night Cullen, like the others have, like Godric did," he said quickly and rather frantic. "I've never looked at a mage and desired them, they've always just been unattractive to me, but..." Cullen felt he wasn't going to like this part, "in my dream, I wanted nothing more then to splurge in animalistic intercourse with this mage. It was like any hidden desire I had of a woman, she was fulfilling, and I couldn't turn her away." Mathias was trying to hide his flustered face, but there was no hiding the sweat beading on his forehead or the red color of his cheeks. "I'm sorry Cullen, but the mage looked like your friend...and now every time I've seen her-"

"Enough," Cullen barked, although a bit more civilized. He was tired of listening to the templars talk of their lewd dreams involving a mage with a striking appearance comparable to Astrid, it was frustrating and even infuriating; for Cullen was having them too. However, his weren't very pleasurable or at all carnal, but a terrifying nightmare of the woman he loved tormenting him in every way possible. Why was this happening?

"There's something else you need know my friend," Mathias spoke, a bit better now that he had confessed his sensual dream to Cullen.

"What is it Mathias?" Cullen asked, the idea of an evil Astrid suddenly clouding his mind.

Mathias paused. "Knight-Commander Greagoir has been investigating the possibility your friend is a blood mage," terror struck Cullen's face, "and has issued the Rite of Tranquility to be performed...tonight."


	15. The Fall

**So this chapter is probably pretty epic towards the end, my favorite part, it's just so evil...I love it. I'm so glad I took my time with this chapter, it was worth it. So just some updates, I'm probably going to update my other story a little slower than this, only because this is my most popular story. And yes, there is going to be a sequel, possibly a few, thanks to the fact DA2 takes place in the span of many years. I'm pretty set on having a mage Hawke and Carver, but...I can't decide if I want a male or female Hawke? With a fem Hawke, there's that cousin girl-to-girl mage-to-mage bond I can have, and with male Hawke well, there isn't a lot of male Hawke fic I've noticed, but then again I usually search for Cullen or Alistair fics. I decided on Carver because I think he's a great character and I think he'd have a very interesting connection with my warden...but we'll see, let me know what you readers think. Anyhow, enjoy and review.**

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><p>XV. THE FALL<p>

"She's not a blood mage," the venom in his voice was startling, even for a passive templar like Mathias; whom took a cautious step from his friend. Cullen could only see red, this was the fault of that damn mage, and now he was gone. How had things escalated so quickly beyond control? The Knight-Commander wasn't an unreasonable man, if only he could speak with the templar and smooth over those ridiculous suspicions of the red headed mage. He made a passing glance at a worried Mathias, whose dream was an all too familiar tale to those told by the others. Despite his complete doubt that Astrid had anything to do with these troubling dreams, it bothered him that the lusty woman calling to templars in their sleep was in the striking image of her. Cullen began to wonder if perhaps he wasn't the only one who was sheltering forbidden feelings for the mage, but the idea was easily waved away. The templar knew that only he could care deeply for her.

He silently decided to confront the Knight-Commander, Cullen couldn't and wouldn't just let this happen without him at least making an attempt to stop it. Abruptly he left Ser Mathias behind and approached the conversing Greagoir, who was seeing off the First Enchanter with a templar escort. Hadley saw him first, immediately stepping into Cullen's direct path, "Cullen don't." He wondered if his intentions were so obvious as the templar held him back, side glancing over his shoulder at the Knight-Commander and keeping Cullen where he was. "Greagoir has agreed with Irving to post-pone the Right of Tranquility, I know Ser Mathias told you," there was that familiar brotherly tone Cullen was so use to coming from Hadley in these sort of situations. "For now, he's going to continue investigating but there is no guarantee that your friend will be saved from the Rite," he finished.

Cullen's mouth twisted into a grimace, "Astrid has nothing to do with any of this, she's one of Greagoir's most loyal mages!" It was harder to keep his emotions in check, especially knowing both Hadley and Greagoir had expressed their own inklings of an illegitimate relationship between him and Astrid. Their dirty secret was hanging on a thread and Cullen was willing to expose it if it meant saving her from a fate worst than death.

Hadley nodded, "I know, Irving reminded him of that as well." The elder templar was trying his best to relax Cullen, whose fists were balled and breathing had turned rapid. "You must realize with all that has been happening, a lot of suspicion has fallen on her," he went on to explain, perhaps trying to help Cullen understand the Knight-Commander's side; and he did. Greagoir who was usually a tyrant over the tower, had shown an obvious soft spot for Astrid, a soft spot that had the potential to bring danger to his men. The young templar himself was guilty of showing perhaps a softer side to the mage himself, in various ways.

"I understand, of course," Cullen tried to redirect his anger back to Anders, but worried that perhaps it wasn't the 'charming' mage that had caused this sudden blunder. His brawn fingers uncurled, and he found himself sauntering over to a stone bench for a sit, to clear his head. Hadley didn't join him, instead Cullen watched as he was called back by the Knight-Commander and sprung into serious conversation.

He was suddenly alone for the first time since leaving Astrid's room, which he now regretted. Cullen had a burning desire to know the truth of her words, the three she whispered before breathlessly speaking his name, and he had simply pretended not to hear her; but he did. Maker's breath, how could he not of? It was hard enough to ignore the incredible warmth of her cold body holding on to him, imagining the feeling of her plump breasts against him and the feeling of her smooth long legs in his arms. Damn all this templar armor! Then to hear that calm cool voice beckon him, nearly invite him back into her arms; Cullen wished he had simply turned to the lock the door and return to make heated love beneath the sheets. The templar buried his face within his gauntleted hands, why did she want him now? Why had she said that to him so soon after her lover fled? It was a burdening question that kept him still, until the rattle of armor to his side brought his head swinging to see who it was.

"I wasn't accusing your friend of being the mage to cause all this," it was Mathias, with a heavy conscious and still unable to look Cullen in the eye. He watched his templar friend closely, there was a certain dread that crossed his face and Cullen grew uneasy looking at him. Ser Mathias finally returned the look, debate still painted on his features as his mouth opened and closed in lost wording. "I know you care about her..." he finally said, words dragging across his stuttering tongue.

"We are friends," Cullen said plainly, although his loins now burned feverishly for her. They were friends when she gave him a thorough tour of the Circle, her red hair weaved back in a tangly braid and he had kept a Qunari's height in distance away from her. They were friends when he complimented the meal every time she cooked and asked her curious questions of the magi. They were friends when her figure grew curvy and her hair long, that comforting grin became encircled in velvet lips and he would subconsciously brush shoulders with her in passing. They were friends when he found her alone in the chapel and he went in to see her, when he informed her of their shared Harrowing. But the moment he kissed the lips he had been only longing for, Cullen knew better. He wasn't her friend when he de-robed her and marveled at her body as he explored her curves. He wasn't her friend when they finished once and she begged him to take her again, her lips wet and hot against his cheek. No, Cullen was most definitely not her friend as he held her hips against him and carefully pulled her back against him. The movement he made love to her was the moment she ceased to exist as his friend and became his lover.

"I've seen you..." Mathias suddenly added, interrupting the templar's mental bubble. Cullen turned to him with furrowed brows, still trying to understand why the templar was telling him anything more, "Cullen, I've seen you together." What he had once most dreaded to hear had finally happened and the templar's blue eyes grew wide in fear, there was hiding it no more. The templar wondered if he could mislead whatever Ser Mathias saw as a mistake, a figment of his imagination, but the odds were terribly slim. "It was before your first Harrowing, her Harrowing," the templar colleague continued, "I was on patrol that night, past the chapel." Cullen felt his heart lurch from within, the beads of sweat hung more heavily across his brow. "I thought perhaps it was just a play of shadows, but I looked again," Mathias looked at Cullen, "and I saw you, with that woman, being intimate. I told myself it couldn't have been you, you just weren't the type, but then your name rolled off her tongue and I knew."

"Why are you telling me this, huh? Why haven't you just gone to the Knight-Commander already," a feeling of his impending end ran through him like ice water. He'd surely be discharged from the templars, to be hung or face a far worst fate at the mage prison; and Astrid, she'd undergo the Rite or brought to the gallows to be guillotined surely. Cullen hung his head, tears burned at the corners of his eyes, this was how it would end.

"What you have with the mage Cullen, it's a dangerous thing-" Mathias quipped in.

"I know," the templar defeatedly growled, "and has been done for a while now.

"I know, that's why I had to tell you-" the templar was stopped by the riled voice of the Knight-Commander, now surrounded by a number of breathless templars, of which looked panicked and stunned. Hadley spotted them on-looking and immediately waved them into the commotion, a sense of templar duty took over Cullen and he quickly approached the crowd; relieved to leave Ser Mathias' damning confession in air for the time being.

Cullen joined as the Knight-Commander continued to fume, "How many are in there?" A shaken templar answered, and the situation was enlightened to him. A handful of mages had bested a few templar guards and took refuge in the Harrowing Chamber, according to the guards. It sounded rather absurd and far-feteched, but with all that was happening lately it came as not much of a surprise to Cullen. "Well, I guess I can't leave the chamber in the care of templars fresh from the chantry," Greagoir growled, pacing and turning on his heal. "Cullen! Take Ser Godric and follow these templars to the Harrowing Chamber, bring those mages to me immediately!" Even though he wanted nothing more than to refuse, the young templar nodded and turned as Ser Godric came to his side. "Good, Ser Mathias, please retrieve the First Enchanter for me," Cullen watched as Ser Mathias walked off, "the rest of you will keep your guard up until this matter is officially settled."

With the scatter of men, Cullen, joined by Godric and the few other fellows, began the long ascension to the top floor. He wondered why the mages had attacked the templars in first place and how they even made it through the templar quarters. They moved through two floors, more hesitantly so through the mage quarters, but quickened their step when they all noticed the eerie emptiness of the tower. It only grew worst when they came upon the templar quarters, silent as the dead of night, although that could have been because most templars were now about their duties. None the less Cullen was about to take any chances and slowly removed his sword when a ring of cool laughter floated through the corridor, soon all the templars' weapons were free. He passed through the hallway wearily, all doors were closed, except for the doorway to the stairway, which had been nearly ripped from the hatches. Cullen took the steps two at a time, coming to the short hallway before the small room into the Harrowing Chamber.

The templars that had only just fled this room looked up at the staircase leading to the final chamber, a look of pure terror. Cullen was ready to lead them into the chamber when a crash of items came from his side and he turned to a small figure cowering in the corner. He slowly trekked towards the dark corner, a shadowy inky corner, and was surprised by the emergence of a beaten mage. "Hold," he called to the others behind him as he made to move forward at the swaying red head, whose eyes followed his every move. Purposely he stood to block her from the templars and Ser Godric specifically, "Godric take them into the chamber and get those mages out!" His authority voice was met with the templars nod and he took the dubious templars up the steps and into the chamber. When he was sure they were all gone, Cullen turned towards the nearly robe-less and bruised appearance of Astrid. "Astrid," he spoke softly, careful as he reached for her bloody arm, "what are you doing up here?"

She immediately broke down crying and flung herself into his arms, "they stormed into my chamber and began to drag me through the halls!" Her voice was stirred with pain as she began to speak, "they said the templars were going to make me tranquil, that I was a templar whore." Cullen felt as Astrid struggled to keep her weight on her feet, falling in and out of the templar's hold on her.

"Who said that Astrid?" he asked of her, trying to get an answer through the hysteria in her voice and eyes.

"The mages," she sobbed, "they're blood mages now! They dragged me here, saying I was going to be made into one of them for what I've done- but I hid when they were fighting the templars, and then they ran into the Harrowing Chamber." Finally her knees gave in and Cullen dropped with her to keep Astrid from crashing into the ground. He held her weakened body against him, "I don't want to be tranquil Cullen, I never want to forget you!"

Cullen felt the worry of the situation melt away in her arms, as it usually did whenever in her presence. Even under the injuries and blood, she some how could calm him and bring comfort. He held her closer and stroked her hair, "I won't let them touch you."

He felt as Astrid gently pulled from him, a vague smile on her dry lips as she looked at him through teary eyes. Cullen felt her blood crusty hand stroke his cheek, her hand was as cold as the room was. "Did you hear me?" she softly quizzed, a hopeful glimmer in her dark pupils. A dense nod came from Cullen and he chokingly couldn't bring himself to say yes, for he had purposely ignored her, and by the look on her face she had known that. Even so, it didn't stop her from advancing herself towards him, and frailly puckering her bruised lips against his. He didn't want to move from that very spot on the cold dirty ground, where his hands moved around her waist tightly, and he longingly kissed her back. Astrid winced, but he continued to brush his lips against hers until she returned with an open mouthed embrace. It didn't matter that the templars would come through those doors any second, or that there was a small army of blood mages with them; Cullen had what he had wanted most.

Their kisses grew warmer and he was entranced by the curl of her tongue against his. Cullen felt both of Astrid's hands hold his face against hers, as she opened her mouth widely against his and this time her tongue adventured much further into his mouth. He felt suddenly as if she was staring avidly through his closed eyelids and the feeling was validated by the curl of her lips into a cruel grin against his lips. Even worst, he began to feel her strangely extended tongue vibrate against the back of his throat as she chuckled. It took all he had to pull away from the woman he had wanted most, but a voice of reason told him he had to. In a loud smack of their lips becoming unlocked, Cullen fell back on his hands and grew sick at the mage, who was erotically sucking the blood off her middle finger. A sultry laugh echoed off the chamber walls and the templar found himself gazing petrified into the yellow glow of Astrid's eyes, hauntingly familiar.

She pulled her finger from her mouth with a pop and licked her lips with that bizarre tongue, gazing at the templar in lust. "Silly Cullen, you just had to peek didn't you?" she coed in a demonic imitation following closely behind each sound in her words. The false Astrid crawled towards the templar, the fragments of what were her robes burning away as ashes and embers until there was nothing left but a golden arrangement of jewelry at her neck and a mere parcel of silk hanging lowly from her swaying hips. Cullen was frozen, as the beautiful image of Astrid was becoming wicked. As she crept into his lap, forcing him onto his back, the templar watched as two ebony horns grew and curled from beneath the vibrant red locks of her now mysteriously floating hair. Demonic Astrid began to lick her fingers again, her nails growing black and pointed as she did so, "I can taste your want for her, it is most satisfying." The creature was right, even with him being straddled by a monster, Cullen was unable to mask that uncontrollable desire for Astrid.

Astrid rubbed her hands over his knees and down his thighs, and even beneath the layers of armor he could feel her hands perfectly. She then stooped low again, her breasts barely moving from their perfected sculpture, and climbed further onto the templar. The demon licked his lips, and clinched his jaw in one strong hand to prevent him from turning away like he had been. "Don't you want..." in a wisp of violet smoke, she was suddenly the splitting image of Astrid, save for those damning golden eyes, "me Cullen?" She bent over to kiss him again, Cullen watching in horror as her hand ran down the length of his torso, his armor rusting and decaying off of him until he was in nothing but his sweaty tunic and trousers. Astrid sat-up again, and ran her hand up her own body, sensually stroking her curves as her robes too ripped and shredded from her body. However, she was left entirely naked and the templar felt himself go numb and grow weak. "We can be together now," the voice was calm but sweet, the very song of Astrid's voice as the demon whispered to him, "no one can tear us apart."

He wrestled her onto her back, devouring the pale flesh of her neck he had once marked. He had failed. Even as screams stretched beyond the Harrowing Chamber, Cullen groped and touched the fictitious mage with rough hands. A part of him begged for him to stop, reminding him this was not Astrid, but his desire had destroyed that resolve. The fake Astrid moaned and panted as he wanted and when he wanted, arching and moving to every thought of his, and even whispered naughty things he had only dreamt of hearing from her mouth. Even as the magical walls of the trap surrounded him, the templar was lost to the darkness. He further delved into carnal sex with the demonic imagining of his love, ignorant to the demon's victorious laughter and bantering to the outside of their world, and to the real Astrid screaming his name and desperately hitting the walls of his prison.


	16. Break

**Sorry for the SUPER late chapter, but I've been completely swamped with starting college and suddenly getting more hours at work! It's madness. Luckily this chapter was mostly done and I just needed to finish it up. Please enjoy and review. I'll try not to take so long next time :)**

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><p>XVI. BREAK<p>

Wynne had returned with an ivory basin of water and slightly distracted, which allowed Astrid to wipe her leaky eyes and caught her ragged breath. The senior mage moved quickly to her bedside as Astrid feigned waking from a light sleep as she sat-up, forcing a yawn and stretching her sore arms. "Sit close," said the old mage as she dipped a cloth into the cold water and tipped the injured mage's chin towards her. She could barely feel the cold water against her already numb lip, which had now been crusty with blood and swollen. Wynne used the cloth to clean her wound, a vicious bite mark that resulted from a dark dream in the basement, but she intended to keep that detail to herself. The young mage watched as her mentor cleansed all traces of blood and returned the cloth to hang over the edge of the basin. "Now this might tickle a bit," Astrid couldn't help but smile, leave it to Wynne to warn her of everything, from tickling to stinging.

Her warm fingertips lingered at Astrid's lip until her hand glowed green and that tickling she warned of reached the surface of the mage's injured lip. She could feel the torn tendrils of her skin knit back together, an unusual and unlikeable feeling, but had quickly disappeared as a worried frown appeared on Wynne's face. The mage's finger stroked her lip and Astrid could feel the tremble in her hand, "Strange, there shouldn't be a scar..." The troubling tone of the mage's words had Astrid on her feet and approaching the mirror on her vanity, her eyes immediately falling on the pale ridge across her lip. Even for a novice healer herself, the young mage knew for a simple injury as hers there shouldn't have been a scar. Scars were left when the injury was too severe to completely heal, or the wound was caused by an abomination or demon.

Astrid gasped and covered her mouth, that wasn't just some tormented nightmare in her holding cell she realized; something had come to her and marked her. Wynne must have caught on, for she came to stand behind the young mage and gripped her shoulder, "There is something in this tower child, and it has targeted you. We must go to Irving." Now the senior mage was rummaging through Astrid's trunk, pulling out a clean set of robes for Astrid and pulling out her boots that had been tucked half way beneath her bed. "You must be quick dear, I will wait in the hallway," and so Wynne left her alone in her bedchamber to change, which she quickly began to do so.

The young mage wondered why she would be the target of demons as she stepped out of her nightgown and reached for the first garment of her robes. It reminded her of the time she had felt so disliked by the apprentices she once considered her friends, and the curious long looks of the templars that Anders had pointed out to her. Astrid was entirely positive the dealings with demons was beyond the templars, who had little reason to harm her, but those looks of such hatred from her fellow mages were the final link. She then abruptly remembered the conversation she had slightly overheard in the library, one that seemed to began to piece together this puzzle. The mage was pondering the thought, trying to remember the faces of the mages in the discussion as she tightened the belt at her hip.

Preoccupied, Astrid was privy to the lava bubbling through the cracks of her stone flooring, boiling and spilling out as a red hot claw emerged from the ground and the sharp fingertips dug into the slab for leverage as the stone turned to ash. The melting opening in the ground grew wider and another taloned hand scratched at the floor, this time making an alarming sound as lava broke through as a large mound and a black igneous shell solidified over the mound as it continued to lift itself from the hole. The mage heard the suspicious boiling and toiling, but it was the raspy roar that had her spinning around. She backed into her bed, a terrified scream stuck in her throat as the demon towered over her. The stones of her floor turned to ash as it glided towards her, lava flowing like blood through the cracks of its exterior. Astrid spotted her staff from the corner of her eye, tucked away and unused since her Harrowing.

The rage demon was coming closer to her, leaving a hot trail as it drifted across the floor. Now just a sharp finger away from slicing her face, Astrid quickly deflected its hand with a small Cone of Cold before throwing herself at her staff, listening as the demon recoiled with its frozen hand. She had tripped over her displaced trunk, but still managed to curl her fingers around the carefully crafted rod and turn it towards the demon. She casted Winter's Grasp at the enraged demon and felt the engulfing heat of his defeat as the rage demon became a pool of lava that hardened into a pile of rock. A shaky breath that she had been holding blew through her lips and Astrid found herself dropping in mana; panic was one of mage's worst enemies. Astrid worried that the absence of Wynne meant that something else was happening beyond her bedchamber and if she didn't pick herself up soon, the old mage could be in serious danger. She focused on catching her breath and trying to calm her hyperactive nerves, but even as she was just beginning to feel relaxed and ready, there came a long spinally hand through the wall her back was against. The mage flung herself out of reach of the creeping fiend, a shade, which entirely sailed through the wall and after her. She crawled to her feet, avoiding the shade's hex and pummeled through the door, crashing into the wall opposite of the hallway.

In the corridor, Astrid watched as the horrors that have been slowly revealing themselves to the tower had now stormed the Circle with no hesitancy. There was screaming beyond comprehension, blood curdling shrieks that belong to both demons and men. She saw a rush of templars run past her and over a dead mage, heard more screeching and a rattling blast somewhere else within the tower. Her focus fell back on her open doorway, where the shade was now floating and preparing to attack. Astrid struggled to remember a shade's weakness, was it a cold spell or a fire spell? She couldn't think straight as the shade was suddenly upon her again, one shadowy arm reaching for her exposed throat. The mage could feel her very essence of life drifting from her, all mana leaving her and soaking into the shade whose fingers had transparently curled into her throat. Suddenly she couldn't breathe and her world was growing dark, but an abrupt burst of magic casted away the shade in a burst of flame and Astrid found herself gasping for air again.

"Astrid!" came a gentle voice. She looked up from where she had slumped onto the ground, cradling her staff against her body. The owner of the voice fell to her knees to help the young mage up and she was surprised to see Petra, one of Wynne's apprentices. Her copper hair was falling free of her usually prim and perfect knot, and there was obvious signs of struggle and batter on her face and robes. "Can you stand?" the kind apprentice helped the mage to her feet, who was using her staff as a medium to hold her still wobbly state.

"She doesn't have a choice, we need to get to the main floor," it was Wynne who spoke now, hastily and darkly. She appeared worn and serious, glancing up and down the corridor. Astrid forced herself to stand by herself, waving off Petra's worried hands as she stepped towards the senior mage. Wynne appeared rather relieved, but quickly motioned them towards the end of the corridor, "Quickly, there are more upon us!"

Petra stumbled backwards, "Where are they?" She held her staff boldly before her, ready to stand-up to the abomination invasion they were now in the middle of. That's when Astrid recognized the piping hot boiling of lava through the crevices of stone just mere inches from the back of Petra's heels. The young apprentice must have heard as the demon rose, much taller and larger than that of the rage demon and shade she had faced earlier. Petra fell back as the demon was still emerging from the hole, crawling over the apprentice as the length of him came free from his fiery prison. The rage demon let out a searing cry, the heat of his breath burning her robes and drips of his magma insides burning her flesh. Astrid heard her yelp from the pain and she tried to look for a way to help, although it looked as if only a spell as strong as Blizzard was going to work, but the young mage was not that strong just yet. Even so, she blasted the rage demon with all the ice spells she did know, moving closer and closer.

Wynne too was sending icy spells their way, but was beginning to focus on building an Arcane Shield around Astrid as the hot aura of the demon began to make approaching unbearable. Petra was trying to protect herself from the lingering demon just as the young mage sent one more ice spell at him before plucking the apprentice from beneath his grasp. She dragged her out of harm's way and enhanced Wynne's shield to protect her too. She watched as the apprentice tried to heal her melted and blackened flesh to no avail, and then her focus turned back to the rage demon who was now being undermined by Wynne. "Wynne-" Astrid shouted, trying to stand-up and help her mentor, but she was held back by an extraordinary invisible force. The shield was nothing demonic, but it had been suddenly added to the Arcane Shield already protecting the young mages. She began to beat on the walls of the transparent dome, any spells sparking against the shield. Astrid watched in horror as the only mother she had ever had took on this greater demon by herself, casting spell one after the other, and surely draining her mana to nothing.

Suddenly the rage demon was swept up in a flurry of snow and ice, Wynne had somehow managed to conjure a Blizzard spell with little stabilized magic she had. It was the final straw for the demon, who writhed and coiled into hardening lava as it melted back into nothing. At the same time, the Arcane Shield along with Wynne's other means of protection fell and the senior mage collapsed where she had been barley standing. Astrid immediately moved to her side, leaving behind her staff to help the fallen woman. She was met with a limp body, no warmth or even a flare of mana coming from the old mage. The mage couldn't help but slightly shake Wynne in her arms, trying to stir some sign of life from the chilling body. Petra soon joined them, carrying both their staffs and just as scared as Astrid. "Wynne..." she cried, tears beginning to cleanse the dirt on her face, "come on, we have to go..." There was no response, just the empty reply of a departed soul.

"No!" Astrid wept, the ringing of boots approaching their place in the middle of the corridor. Hands reached to pry her from Wynne, which she tried desperately to fight off as they first took Petra and called more for her. She couldn't leave her behind, she couldn't have left her behind! The templars were carrying them away, a few brushed forward to check for life of the withered mage, but she painfully watched as one shook his head. Then she watched as the mage's knee moved and then her fingers; all from a growing distance, the mage watched as life suddenly sprung back into Wynne. The old mage herself appeared distraught as she sat-up and was taken up with a templar to help escort her with the others. Astrid managed to wiggle free of her templar to help with Wynne, who was still bewildered of what had happened. "I'm so glad you're alright," Astrid stuttered, although she could be barely heard over the rushing movement of armor and boots.

"Quickly!" hollered a templar, who waved for them to scurry down the stairs. Astrid glanced over her shoulder to see a small horde of shades approach the templars that stayed behind; she knew they wouldn't last long. So rapidly the group moved down the stairs and onto the apprentice quarters, where all hell had broke loose. There were templars fighting off demons of all sorts, joining the moving group as they passed; it would seem fleeing was their final stand. Blood and fire blazed and splattered through the floor, dead mages and templars scattered the floors, and Astrid felt terror in a way she had never before. They flooded through one more staircase, their group now at least tripled in number as they made haste to the main floor of the Circle.

A wall of templars stood guard and mages that had managed to flee the upper floors sat huddled together on the floor in what looked like prayer. Wynne gently pushed Astrid from her, apparently strong enough to stand on her own. The Knight-Commander was now with them and the senior mage began to question him of the First Enchanter's whereabouts. Petra too had wondered off, she found a small gathering of apprentices that all gasped happily to see her safe. Astrid scanned the room, there was only one other person she needed to know was alright, but all she found was a templar watching her from across the chamber. She adverted her eyes away from him and went on to walk through the crowds, catching the end of Wynne's hysterical voice as she spoke with the Knight-Commander. No matter where she looked, he wasn't here and Astrid felt her stomach tighten. "Astrid right?" she turned to the sound of her name, worried to see that the templar that had been watching her was now standing before her. He carefully side glanced before reaching for the mage's arm and pulling her to a more private area. "Cullen was sent to the Harrowing Chamber before the abomination attack," he told her, as if he knew exactly why she was desperately stalking through the room.

"Is he still there?" Astrid didn't care if she looked suspicious conversing with a templar, or that the templar apparently knew she had some sort of relationship with Cullen. A sharp nod came from him and her fears had been realized. The young mage turned away to catch her breath, to stop herself from hysterically crying right there.

"You can probably save him," the templar suddenly said, which brought her attention back to him. "If you sneak back up the tower and move quickly, the demons shouldn't sense your presence much," he explained, "there are enough templars left on the floors to keep them momentarily busy." She noticed as he sub-consciously began to lead her back towards the doorway she had just ran through, keeping a watching eye on the crowd. "Don't go into the chamber," he ordered, "if Cullen is in there, then it's too late. You must return here if you don't find him, otherwise I don't think he would ever forgive me if something happened to you."

As much as this sounded like some sick trap, Astrid could't deny the sincerity of the templar's voice and that determined look in his eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at Wynne, who was now calmly discussing with the Knight-Commander. Surely a barrier was going to be put up soon to prevent further abominations onto this floor, which meant the young mage needed to leave now if she wanted to reach Cullen. This was perhaps the most stupid idea she was to act on in her career as a mage, but she was determined to save Cullen, she owed it to him. With the encouraging nod of the templar, she eased back towards the doorway, watching as the templar provided a distraction for the templars guarding the door. Astrid quickly darted through the doorway, she was unarmed and weak, but she wasn't going to let it stop her from trying. Her feet carried her quickly up to the next floor and indeed the templar was right, the number of templars still on the floor had kept most of the demon's preoccupied. The only fight the mage had to worry about was with a few walking corpses that she easily defeated with simple spells before carrying on.

She ran until she could feel her heartbeat between her ears and could hear every inhale and exhale, Astrid wasn't about to allow these abominations to kill whom she loved most. So it was a relief when she began to storm through the templar floor, now subjected to the scum and demonic growth of abomination corruption and bloodlust. There were bodies that had been dragged from other floors, against the walls and hanging from the ceilings. It was such a terrible sight, the young mage's quick pattering had down shifted to cautious steps through the chaos; but through the massacre she could make out the splintered doorway to the top floor. Astrid felt entirely dreadful climbing the stairs, a ricochet of passionate voices echoing down the steep corridor and growing louder with each step. She soon recognized Cullen's voice, if it was him, but the manner of his vocals was paralyzing. As she turned down the hallway, quickening her step with each gasp and moan, her heart ached. Until she stood before a glowing pink dome and within was her templar tangled with that of a desire demon with a striking resemblance of herself.


	17. Disgusting

**I've been super busy and haven't had the chance to update as much as I'd like, which sucks cause I really want to write more and get going on the sequel already lol. I'm leaning towards a Carver/M!Hawke for Astrid's cousins in the sequel, only because I think the Hawke I'm playing now is who I'd like to write about. However, if I do a F!Hawke I can have an Anders conflict...so many choices. Let me know what you guys think? I'm a 100% on the Carver part, just not the Hawke part. Anyhow enjoy this sorta short but tense chapter, it's the sort of torment I think Cullen endured while trapped for the first part. I'll try to get next chapter up soon!**

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><p>XVII. DISGUSTING<p>

Tormented curiosity swarmed Astrid like a plague as she watched in agony like some meek observer. Although she wanted nothing but to scream for him, everything had fallen eerily silent and still around her. Is this how Cullen had felt? The straining knot in her chest she clutched for and the ache of just breathing was unbearable; and he had felt it all. She needed to look away, but the aura of abominations in the atmosphere had left her weak as that fine lining between the living and the fade grew thinner. So Astrid forced her eyes closed and inhaled sharply, if she didn't do something the demon would continue to prey on Cullen until it was too late. The mage used what she knew to think how she might be able to free the templar from his unfavorable predicament, although the sounds emitting from within the barrier proved otherwise.

She turned her back on the powerful dome with her eyes still tightly closed, taking one cautious step at a time as the mage tried to desperately distance herself from the trap Cullen was trapped in. Only when she had felt in control of herself again did Astrid open her eyes, facing the dark corner opposite of where the demon was lingering. Powerless, save for the few spells she can manage without her staff, the young mage was desperately scouring the tower floor for anything she could use. There wasn't much besides the abomination growths and fleshy vines that had weaved through the stone flooring and walls, but Astrid managed to spot a stone spear, broken off from a crumbling templar statue within the room. She quietly knelt in her robes to pick up the object, surprised when it was heavier than it had looked. Astrid turned to face the dome again, still unnoticed by the demon or templar. Then with all the strength she bore, the mage charged the dome with hopes to pierce through its exterior.

The spear made contact with the glowing prison, but only ricocheted and had the mage stumbling backwards. Astrid however proceeded to swing at the pink wall, each time bouncing back and chipping away the more force she used. She also called out his name, unknowingly allowing tears to cascade down her reddening cheeks; and she was down to just the handle of her spear, Astrid began to beat the dome with her fists. It burned every time her hand hit the wall, blood smearing the tight curl of her fingers as she would pull back only to pound again; whether it was her blood though, she was unsure. At last an annoyed growl echoed throughout the room and the mage looked up from her bloody fists to see the desire demon leave her prey and glide towards Astrid. She backed away as the demon easily slipped through the barrier and narrowed a burning gaze at Astrid, who was now finding herself unwillingly standing in place.

"I was wondering when we'd finally meet," the demoness coed as her naked chest heaved and a dark smirk crossed her tainted lips, "I don't think you'd be able to fathom the sort of naughty thoughts the templar has of you." The desire demon continued her parade towards Astrid, floating in a circle around the terrified mage before throwing her head back in a devious chuckle. She curled in mid-air and stroked her bare side, amused by the avoiding gaze that the mage was trying to make. "But..." sang he demon, her voice silky and dreamy, "your thoughts are your own." Astrid felt as if a hand had combed through her head and her fear escalated when the demoness answered with a long moan. "And quite dirty."

Suddenly the room was shrouded in complete darkness and Astrid could no longer see anything but the purple smoke of the demon surrounding her. "You see mage," came a cold whisper in her ear which nearly knocked her off her feet. A cool chuckle followed her surprise and Astrid was finding it difficult to pin-point the demon within this complete darkness. "Templars are quite hard to put under my spell," abruptly the demoness was hovering before her eyes, in the very splitting and disturbing image of Astrid. "But mages-," the desire demon spun around the mage again, this time breathing coldly down her neck and leaving icy traces of her fingertips along Astrid's shoulders. "I barely have to lift a-" the demon circled her again, but reappeared in front of Astrid as a templar with gold curly locks and piercing blue eyes, "finger." Cullen's voice rolled of the demon's tongue as if that's where it belonged, and then she was trapped.

The impostor lifted her chin with a snowy finger and she was suddenly tasting his lips, frosty but seductive. No matter how loud her sub-conscious screamed, Astrid's fiery intentions to free the templar were smothered by this Cullen's wintry touches. She moaned achingly as he restrained her from reaching out, to explore the defined shapes of his naked chest, but the mage was satisfied as the demon spell bounded her with a long exploring tongue that sent a shiver down her back. "Astrid," he moaned into her head, as layers of her robes fell as shredded fragments of fabric at her feet. Even without the fake Cullen's hands to pin her arms to her side, the mage was unable to move as the demon stepped behind her and used the skillful tongue to suck on her tilted neck. "Can you see Cullen?"

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><p>Cullen felt the demoness' influence wither away as his eyes fluttered open to see pink and that he'd been stripped down to his trousers and under-shirt, the strings of his pants undone and his manhood limply hanging free. Surprised, the templar quickly tucked himself in and rolled onto his bruised knees. His body trembled in pain and his head raced with a vague memory of how he'd gotten here and trapped within some bizarre prison. Then came a voice to break his thoughts, "Can you see Cullen?" The templar's head lulled up with lazy eyes and he fell back on his rump as he looked on in horror.<p>

The cold demon chuckled in response, licking the red headed mage's lips as the templar looked on in pain. When had Astrid come to this part of the tower? Why did she come up here? He nearly had his face against the glowing wall of his prison as the demon continued to taunt him with the body of the mage; her lids were heavy, her mouth parted in heavy pants, the demon made no hesitation to stroke her curves or cup her now exposed breast as Cullen watched in anger. The templar opened his mouth to damn the demon that now possessed Astrid, but found his voice parched and well being weak. Again, the demon laughed and began to finger Astrid's bottom lip as he watched in further disgust.

"See this lovely scar?" the demon asked, now a masculine form of the desire demon that he only subtly remembered. Astrid moaned as the demon ran his tongue along the shiny red scar on her lip and continued to rub sensually at her exposed bosom, which Cullen was staring most longingly at from the corner of his eyes. "When the templars had her all locked up in the basement, I went to her," the desire demon continued, Cullen flinched when Astrid suddenly turned in the arms of her assailant and rubbed against him as she kissed longingly at his mouth. "And I was surprised to learn that her deepest desire was you, a templar of all men in this tower," the templar himself looked on as the demon moved closer to the dome trap, gently guiding the mage onto the dank floor and her back. "So I gave her what she wanted," the templar punched the wall, but pulled back when a jolt of electricity passed through him. He didn't know how much he could take. The demon bent down to spoil Astrid with kisses and licks to her breasts, and Cullen watched as she arched her back and threw back her head which gave him a glimpse of her womanly mounds. "She's tasty, but you already know that," jested the demon, whom was flickering from a demonic image of himself to the templar he teased, "But you already knew that."

Cullen could feel his vocal chords vibrate, but the sounds were barely coherent, even to him. That only seemed to encourage the demon more, who was now taking on the complete figure of Cullen, besides a veil of purple smoke and black horns. He started to hit the wall again, grunting each time he was shocked, but not holding back any effort to bring Astrid out of her spell. "Just watch templar," the demon coed as the hem of the mage's undershirt moved up her hips and Cullen began to beat more frantically against his prison wall, "What a disgusting mage she is."

There was a familiar quiet gasp and Cullen was frozen, the memory of catching Astrid under the body of that damn mage was flooding his thoughts, but this sickening feeling was entirely different. It wasn't a feeling of betrayal and hurt, no the templar was furious and enraged; this was violation and rape right before his eyes. The demon hissed and then chuckled when he saw the horrid look on his face, "You spoiled her with gentleness Cullen." Cullen was petrified as Astrid's head moved from side to side in aching moans and she planted a hand against his prison from leverage, which only added to the demon's pleasure. "I'm going to give her exactly what she deserves," he spoke coldly, the demon digging his nails into the mage's hips as he pushed harder into her.

He couldn't take it anymore. "No!" the templar hollered, his voice finally pushing past whatever charm he had been under. "Release her!" Cullen cried out, now throwing himself at the barrier keeping him back from saving Astrid. A look crossed the demon's face and the templar knew he was doing something right, for the demon's image flickered from being Cullen to the ghastly purple skin of a desire demon. So the templar continued to pound against the barrier, calling Astrid's name and using what the templars taught him to dispel magic. With one final strike at the barrier, Cullen heard an unexpected scream from the mage. "Astrid?" he tried to get her attention, but she wouldn't stop screaming and writhing beneath the demon who was now violently continuing to assault her. "Astrid hold on!" he hollered to her, searching the prison for any remains of the items that were with him before the attack.

It glinted under the pink lighting of his prison, still intact and sharp, which was only a mere relief from the huge weight on Cullen's shoulders. As Astrid's painful cries continued to ring through the room, he tried to focus on what he remembered of how to rid of a mage's hex, in this case a barrier. In moments he recalled an ability to cleanse the area of magic, in which he spun around to do immediately as he charged the wall. He was met with no resistance, just a slight tingling through the body as he passed through the wall and managed to plunge his broadsword through the demon's chest without a plan. The desire demon chuckled, although fading quickly, "this is just the beginning templar!" Then in a puff of smoke, the demon vanished and Cullen found himself free from the prison.

"Astrid!" Cullen dropped his broadsword, now decorated in a splash of purple and red blood that splattered as it hit the stone. The redhead was still hysterical when he knelt down to scoop her from the ground and carried her across the chamber, away from the scene she had been defiled. He gently cradled her within his arms as he sat down, pulling up her shirt with a soft touch when he had noticed her chest was still openly exposed. Astrid continued to cry into his shoulder, but her loud whimpering had become silent sobs. Cullen could see bruising where the demon had held her hips and he couldn't bring himself to check beyond that, if he was hurting from head-to-toe from his encounter surely Astrid was too. "Astrid, it's me- the real me," he whispered softly against her forehead, kissing her sweaty brow.

He felt her hand curl into his shirt and her other hand fluster to pull on her undershirt, trying to cover what had only seconds before been ravaged by a demon. "I didn't want you to see that," she cried, dirt and hair clinging to her face, "I was too weak to fight it off-"

Cullen silenced her with a kiss, a carefully planted one that was both sore and sweet-tempered. He longed to kiss her harder, but their bruised lips left them with just the hunger for such a passionate embrace. Serenely he used a finger to lift her face towards him, to peer into those pained but hopeful eyes and to kiss her again; this time he felt the ridge of her scar against his lips. Astrid whimpered into his mouth and held onto the wrist of his hand that was touching her face. "We should leave this place," he spoke softly to her, "Can you walk?" The mage barely nodded, but he understood. With failed swiftness, Cullen stood on his feet again and carried Astrid with him.

The questions could wait until they were safe, until Cullen knew that Astrid was beyond the reach of another demon and he would still be able to protect her. Once she was safe, he would ask the necessary questions. The mage stood towards the archway into the corridor as the templar went to retrieve his bloody sword, keeping a watchful eye on Astrid as he bent over. Without warning he slid onto his back, his feet completely swept from beneath him as Astrid suddenly called for him. He groaned, trying to search for the source of his downfall, but found nothing but his sword just a finger away. Then, just as the mage was about to reach his side, Cullen was being dragged across the floor and into a blood red dome that suddenly appeared in place of his prior prison. Cullen tried to grab onto the stone flooring, or anything that might stop this rush; not even Astrid's quick hands kept him from being flung into the new prison.

"Cullen-" she gasped as he tried to dispel the magic in the room once again, but there something entirely different this time. Astrid fell to the ground and sat terrified in front of him, "This is blood magic Cullen, you can't get out." He had witnessed blood magic before, but this was different, there was a strange overwhelming power radiating from the encircled wall. A power he wondered if Astrid felt, since she was now moving a distance away from the dome. "We're going to have to wait-"

"Astrid-," he interrupted, "It'll be alright, I promise." Her face trembled in tears and he watched as she hugged her knees against her chest crying. She was right, they were going to have to wait; but for how long was the troublesome part.


	18. Revelations

**So as soon as I get free time my life becomes chaotically busy, and I do mean chaotically. I've barely had time to do anything with school and work making demands left and right! I never gave-up on this story though, I always thought about it and what direction it will be going in and I think you guys will like it! I've worked on the sequel some too and have decided we will have a gentleman of a male mage Hawke, Carver, and some drama with Anders. It'll be a lot more darker and angsty than this story, although I think the next few chapters will be a little tormenting for the characters. However, this story is still alive, just not as active as I'd love it to be- which I am trying to change. If it means shorter chapters, than so be it, this story will NOT DIE! Anyhow, let me know what you guys think. I did change the dialogue there, only because I did change some of the story so...yeah. Read, review, please let me know what you think! I'll be updating soon!**

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><p>XVIII. REVELATIONS<p>

Awakening from a previously unconscious state was a bittersweet moment of relief. It meant she had to force herself to breath again, peer up at her captures through teary bruised eyes as they stared, glared, in malice and hatred down at her. Astrid had never reached Cullen, it was entirely a tormenting vision painted in tainted magic for him, as the blood mages cackled around her. Somewhere during her desperate attempt to reach the endangered Templar, the frantic mage had stepped into a trap laid out by her treacherous brethren. Blood mages. The redhead choked, her rips felt bruised if not broken, and any seldom hope of escape was pointless; for the blood mages had made sure she wouldn't be going anywhere.

In the presence of their dark laughter as she withered at their feet on the ground, Astrid screamed; but it was pointless. Her blood fed their thirst for power. Completely incapacitated, the young mage was sitting up only by the help of two jagged daggers made of lyrium stolen from dead Templars forced through her palms and penetrating the wall behind her. Her arms were numb from blood loss and she could see her fingers twitching helplessly from the corner of her eye. If that wasn't enough, Astrid was involuntarily bowing to abominations; once mages, but now in servitude to their psychotic master, the biggest traitor of them all. Uldred.

Astrid hung her head and saw as wet tears smacked into the stone below her. They had been using her all along. Summoning demons to seduce the templars in her image as they slept, even tempting her. And now the man she loved thought her safe, sleeping soundly at the base of her entrapment, after watching the illusion of her being raped and him presumably rescuing her. It was all but a lie. Was it even real? The secret rendezvouses with Cullen, in the chapel, in the closet. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know. As if they knew, the mages around her began to ring out with laughter and mild pointing with their blood stained staffs. "Look at her," one jested, "the bitch had it coming to her." There was a hatred that Astrid couldn't fathom.

"What should we do with her?" another one yelled, lacking any interest at all.

"Doesn't matter, she'll bleed out sooner or later," said a third, a woman, wearing a very hideous cowl about her head, "Uldred will want us back at the Harrowing Chamber soon anyhow." The woman paced to where Astrid was sprawled awkwardly, any feeling in her body gone. The blood mage aggressively poked her in the ribs with the end of her staff, like a child might a dead animal on the side of the road. "I say we leave her, let the demons 'ave at her."

There was a chorus of agreement, a ring of heads nodding, and even some smirking from the mages; all of whom she had grown-up with. Astrid suddenly felt herself falling back into the fade, her vision growing fuzzy with each passing second her blood continued to leave her body. The blood mages were leaving, not even bothering to un-crucify her position against the wall among the disoriented room, which had ironically been the chapel. As the last of their footing could be heard echoing down the passage outside the chamber, the young mage fell apart. Her body, becoming a mere husk of her former self, hung lazily from her her hands were staked, ripping at the flesh of her pallid palms. She sat beaten in a pool of her own blood, waiting to die. Astrid felt her breathing grow shallow, painful with each gasp as her lungs began to break down. Dying wasn't peaceful, there was no bright light at the end of the tunnel, just pure blackness. And although Astrid had never been the religious sort, she begged the Maker for forgiveness.

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><p>"Astrid..." his voice barely an audible whisper, just lingering after another night had passed with no food or water. The mage had refused to leave his side, to the unknown fate of his entrapment, and was suffering beside him. Cullen watched her sadly, struggling to keep his eyes open as he admired where she slept on the ground; her hair cascading along the dirt and the curves of her body moving with the deep rhythm of her breathing. It was almost romantic, save for the blood mage cage he was in and the inability to help Astrid should another problem arise. Astrid's face was stained with tears, she had spent the time crying on and off during their ordeal; and apologized for him having to witness such a crude display again. The templar grudgingly eyed her town robes, the doing of that damned desire demon that had managed to posses the both of them.<p>

His eyes were heavy, sleep was beckoning like a sloth demon, and he could no longer fight it. As easily as he had been caught a second time, the Templar slipped into the deep fade, a mirage of his hopes and dreams. It was oddly pleasant, if not peaceful. His clothes were the most comfortable he had ever had, the air was crisp and cool, and everything smelt delightful. For once he didn't worry, it was bliss, perfected by the familiar hands encircled at his waist. "Cullen," her voice was sweet and velvety as she nudged her head along the back of his shoulder. He took in her scent, her warmth, and turned to return the embrace. His rough hands ran with ease through her silky locks of auburn hair, a bundle of loose curls that ran down her back. She wasn't dressed in the unflattering mage robes of the Circle, but in a dark emerald skirt with a matching chemise, and to his manly delight, an ebony corset that complimented her soft breasts.

Cullen felt her touch his face, the most pleasant sensation, and then gently kiss his lips. The Templar's hands cradled her lower back, delving deeper into their timid embrace, a first for the star-crossed lovers. For once their embrace wasn't a force driven by lust, but purely emotion; his love for her never flowed to heavily through his racing heart. What started as the brushing of lips to butterfly kisses was now open mouth as Cullen pulled her closer, tasting her sincerely for the first time. He felt his cheek wetted, and he smiled, the Templar too was on the verge of crying out of happiness. He pulled back to comfort her, to sooth any remaining doubts that had plagued their affair from her worrisome mind, but Cullen was met with shock and stared entirely in terror.

He touched the his cheek bone, what should have been slick and cold was hot and sticky as he pulled his damp fingers to his eyes. Blood. Cullen trembled. Astrid's usually vibrant eyes were now swollen and half-lidded, bleeding from the bruised corners of her dilating orbs. The usual glow of her skin was pale and sickly, the complexion of a dead man, which brought his wandering eyes to her bloody palms and wrists. As the realization began to settle, Cullen felt his love go limp and heavy in his arms; if he hadn't been there to hold her, she could have fallen entirely. Struggling to keep his ground, the Templar dropped into a kneel and then fell on his rump, cradling the gasping figure of the magess. _This is a dream, _he desperately told himself as Astrid was becoming a corpse in his very arms. _She's safe, outside my prison! This is but a terrible dream._

Then her voice met his ears, haunting and cold, "Cullen..." It was his name, the happiness he felt at the sound of his name lived for mere seconds as she wheezed and coughed, more blood splattered across his now itchy garments. She was bleeding profusely from her eyes and hands, her vibrant blood now pooling around them in a near perfect circle. "It is a lie-" she choked, blood gurgling and bubbling in her throat. Cullen was shaking, tears welding in his blue eyes as the paradise he had built in the fade caved in around him. "The chapel...not- lies..." she grew more incoherent the more she tried to speak, the more he watched as the life slipped from her. "Help-" Astrid said last in a short breath before her eyes fell wide and her head lulled heavily to the side.

"Astrid?" he called in disbelief, shaking the motionless body of the bleeding mage. Cullen shook her again, this time a little more roughly and wretchedly. "No..." he muttered kissing her face, careless of the blood running along the curves of her soft cheeks. He tried to get a rise out of her, some sign of life, but he pressed his ear to her chest and heard nothing. "No- Maker no!" Cullen cried, hugging the lifeless body of Astrid to his broad frame. He began to cry dryly, as the floor filled with her blood until her white skin shrunk against her petite skeleton. The Templar watched horrified as her face hallowed to the cheek bones, shriveling and drying, until suddenly the woman he loved fell to ashes in his arms, scattered in the emerald silks that had adorned her body. "Maker no!" Cullen hollered, "Oh Maker- Andraste no!"

A blazing explosion sounded down the hallway from where Cullen stirred abruptly awake, even worst were the screams that bellowed from the Harrowing Chamber just up the stairs to his side. It took a moment for him to gather himself, to realize he was no longer in the fade, and that he was completely alone. Where he had fallen asleep to watching Astrid breathing was just a vacant slab of stone, not even a trace of the redhead he had been watching prior to succumbing to sleep. He grew frustrated, trying to understand what had just occurred when he looked abruptly up at the sound of clattering footsteps. Cullen leapt to his feet, preparing for another desire demon to float into the chamber, to tease and taunt him.

Instead a small group of people padded into the room, lead by a battle hardened woman with bloody brown hair. He watched as she spotted him through the daze of his prison, an enchanted look of surprise as she noticed his predicament. Beside the woman was an older woman he vaguely recognized, another red head, and a young lad that Cullen sworn he had seen before as well. Despite the harmless stance of the invaders, the Templar would not allow himself to be fooled. "This trick again!" he hollered, trying to call out the desire demon from wherever it was hiding from him. The brunette gave him a puzzling look, but he didn't falter, "I know what you are, it won't work! I will stay...strong." There was an exchanging of words between his new company, but Cullen refused to hear them, "Enough visions," he begged, recalling the ashes of Astrid from his dream. "If anything in you is human...kill me now and stop this game!"

More conversation ensued from the group, but Cullen couldn't erase that terrible terrible dream, and even the slightest movement from one of the members had him flinching further back into his prison, "Don't touch me! Stay away!" He fell to his knees and clutched his head, rocking as he sneered, "...Filthy blood mages...getting in my head! I will not break- I'd rather die!" Despite the Templars resistance to listen to reason, the Brunette spoke again, which only agitated him further. Cullen found the strength to stand again, "Silence!" His voice ricocheted across the room, "I'll not listen to anything you say, now begone!" The Templar closed his eyes and mentally counted to five, opening them to see the strangers still standing by. He did it again, than thrice, and still they wouldn't leave as it had worked in the past.

"Templar..." he heard the leading lady speak, "I am real, there are no demons here, and I am here to help." Listening to her, Cullen could not only hear the truth but he felt it, that distinctive difference between a demon and human. Weak, confused, he sighed and ran his hand plainly down his face.

"It was so real...please- Don't blame me for being cautious," he replied, suddenly angry and wrapped in wrath. "H-how did you get here- past all those filthy mages...and the demons!" Cullen grimaced at the term demons and his blood boiled, this torture was at the hand of mages, those damn mages he saw everyday since he's been here. It infuriated him to know he had been hoodwinked by mages, he a templar, who allowed himself to be intimately distracted by one.

"...Cousland, I'm a Grey Warden. I've come to rescue the tower," he looked up at the female Warden, surprised initially, and mostly doubtful of her quest. The Tower couldn't be saved now, not with all the blood shed and conspiracy. Sure they could kill Uldred the leader, but there were still many of his pawns to deal with, an idea that made him wonder about Astrid for the first time.

He stopped his unfavorable thought to advise the Warden, "Kill Uldred- kill them all!"

The Warden shook her head and the old woman gasped, "I will not shed innocent blood for the sake of smiting the blood mages. If what Greagoir told us is the truth, then there are imprisoned mages in the Chamber there." She was rather harsh for a woman, again a surprise as she scowled Cullen for his suggestion. "Including the First Enchanter, if he's dead, there will be no finding the root to your blood mages!"

"Are you a fool!" the Templar couldn't bring a stop to his anger, he wanted nothing more for those damned bloody mages to die for what they had done to him, for what they had put him through. It was enough to be seduced by a demon, to tangle with her knowledge of his lust for a mage, and to regrettably give in. Then, the mages even had the audacity to plant the defilement and death of Astrid in his mind as his sanity weakened. No mage could leave that room, he wouldn't allow them- yet, there was nothing he could do from where he stood trapped in a mage's snare. "As much as I wish to deal with these mages myself, I am in no position to force you to take my advice."

"I'd free you, but I am no mage-" she started, but he shook his head and interrupted her.

"Don't bother. You must get to the Harrowing Chamber and kill Uldred, end this nightmare..." he fell silent with the term nightmare, which was what this entire ordeal was to him, but Cullen felt a tad bit relieved to know this would be over soon. "May the Maker turn his gaze on you..." he said as the Warden and her trio of followers began to charge up the stairs, "I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all!"

The Warden ignored him and disappeared into the chamber, leaving Cullen alone, again. He stood pondering his outburst, coming back to his previous thought: was Astrid a servant to Uldred too? Was she not suspiciously in good terms with the Templars? Was her affair with an escaped mage almost a coincidental distraction from what was really going on in the tower? Were the Templars' dreams of her purposely planted by her own hand of magic? Cullen's jaw stiffened, was his love for this woman based all on a blood mage's plan for revolt? Was it all a lie?


	19. Not Alone

**How's this for a comeback, eh? I actually had time to sit down and work on this yesterday and I did, which means my mojo has at least temporarily returned to me. This chapter was interesting, mostly sad, to write, because now we're going to get into the brutal reality of their feelings for one another. I was listening to my Ipod while writing this chapter, and the song "Not Alone" by Red came on, hence the chapter name. So for anyone who likes to have a theme song for what they read, I'm going to start suggesting the song, or songs, I think work as a theme song for the chapter. Anyhow, enjoy, review and let me know what you think :)**

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><p>XIX. NOT ALONE<p>

Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. Cullen had no sense of time while he had been trapped, and to be honest, didn't quite care. At one point since the Grey Warden and her companions had slipped into Uldred's den, the tormented Templar's prison had cracked like broken glass and shattered into a million pieces, showering around him like pink lyrium dust. He was hesitant, expecting a third trap, but as his foot passed through the threshold of the chamber into the decaying passage, Cullen knew he was free. Not bothering with the remnants of his armor or shield, he branded his longsword and rushed through the corridor. Into the Templar Quarters he moved swiftly, stepping over the dead bodies of his comrades, mages, and the ashy remains of demons. Perhaps the Warden had more potential than he initially thought.

His hurry was loud and unprofessional, if there were still demons not slain in advance they were bound to hear him trampling over their decor of macabre that littered the Tower. So Cullen moved quicker just incase, sweat beading at his brow and his breathing short and labored as he forced his pace to quicken. The Great Hall was a blur, just more reminisce of where the fade's more grotesque had grown and splurged. Here the Templar saw more corpses, apparently previously possessed but killed recently; subconsciously he patted the Warden on the back. As he came to the stairway he was sure to be careful where the stone steps had slightly crumbled and where the blood might still be slick and warm. Cullen was getting closer, one more floor and he'd be free from this madness, from the bloody mages he now so despised. All he needed was to make a run for it through the Senior Mage Quarters- the note made him stop.

Cullen felt his heart lurch in all varieties of directions. Anxiety, betrayal, guilt- while one part of him begged him to check, the other had him thinking otherwise. _Surely she had been evacuated, _he told himself, still plagued by the mind trick he had endured. _But what if she hadn't? _The Templar now walked slowly, it became harder to breath as he moved along the curve of the tower, waiting for her familiar door to come into focus. Then there it was, wide-open and nearly torn from the iron hinges. Cullen sprinted to the door, knocking the door completely from the frame as he forced himself inside her chamber. Empty. Her nightgown laid on the ground, the last article of clothing he remembered her in, before the tower had fallen. There was a mound of molten rock at the center of her room, an obvious sign of demon activity, along with the black ash collected on the wall behind her bed. Other than that, there was no sign of Astrid. _She must have left._

The mystery of the mage now partially solved, Cullen passed the rows of rooms, doors either on the floor or splintered into pieces. It was when a sense of familiarity passed through him did the Templar stop again, gazing blankly at the crimson stains on the stone flooring and even the walls. Torches usually lit to keep the dark corridor illuminated were now just puffs of smoke, save for the dancing of shadows that caught his eye to the side. Curious since he couldn't put his finger on why this was all familiar, he strode into the glowing room. Any stonework had fallen and crumbled, including a beautifully carved statue of Andraste- with would only mean he was in the chapel. The long pews were tossed and broken, the tapestry pulled from the ceiling and ripped; and at the altar, like some sick sacrifice was a woman vaguely lit by the candlelight. A nauseating feeling tumbled through the Templar's stomach, something knowing, but he prayed to be wrong.

He shifted through the rubble to the woman, trembling as he reached to lift her chin. "Maker-" he choked, dry blood flaked from her cold cheeks as he cupped her face between his calloused hands. Her red hair was matted and tangled with rock and blood, eyes bruised and swollen, from being beaten and crying. Astrid was held up by two poorly made daggers, usually present on novice Templars, and crafted in lyrium; power for a Templar, death to a mage. Knowing this, Cullen carefully released her face and rushed to release her hands. He pulled the first dagger from her palm, which had nearly sliced its way up and between her middle and ring finger. Without the support, Astrid's body fell forward and Cullen was quick to catch her. Just as carefully, he freed her other hand, catching the entire weight of Astrid's chilled body as she fell.

"Astrid!" he immediately called to her, turning her body to see her face, a ghastly sight. Her eyes were open, but there appeared to be no life in them, not even a slight flicker. "Astrid!" Cullen yelled again, seeing that her robes had been ripped and there was surely more damage upon her body. He adjusted her again, clutching her blood soaked body against his torso, cradling as he felt guilty for his doubts. The Templar squeezed his eyes shut, begging the Maker, Andraste; they could not have her, not now. "I was wrong!" he cried through gritted teeth, "I...was wrong." Cullen couldn't forgive himself to even allowing the thought that Astrid was part of the blood mages' invasion, it made his blood boil and eyes sting. "So wrong..." he whispered as he looked at her face again, her lips still a rosy red. There was nothing he could do, and there was no way he was going to leave her at the mercy of anymore abominations.

Cullen left behind his longsword to carry Astrid, sliding his arms beneath her knees and the middle of her back. With careful maneuvering he had her arm around his neck for extra leverage and tucked the other into her lap for balance. This wasn't how he wanted this to end. He imagined surviving and helping with rebuilding the tower, rebuilding any hope of a relationship with the mage in his arms. All he wanted was to be happy again. Happiness he had before that blasted mage Anders, before the Blight, before he and Astrid laid together. Cullen realized too, she had been a happier person before all this happened as well; and to see her happy again made Cullen's heart race. In that moment as he stepped down onto the last floor, to his sanctuary from this terror, the Templar had made a decision.

At the end of the corridor the doors were closed, Cullen took that as a good sign as he neared. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he yelled hopefully as he came to a standstill at the door.

"Warden? Is that you?" came a distinctive voice from the other side.

"No, it is Ser Cullen," he answered, pulling Astrid closer to him, "I have a wounded mage, she needs immediate attention!"

"I'm sorry Cullen, Greagoir won't let anyone in until the Warden has returned with the First Enchanter-"

"What?" the young Templar interrupted, furious again. This wasn't happening, he, they were so close.

There was murmuring on the other side, but he couldn't decipher what they were saying to one another. "Ser Cullen please remain where you are. As soon as we know of the First Enchanter's whereabouts, we will let you and the mage in."

The young Templar leaned against the wall and slumped to the floor, keeping Astrid snug in his lap, trying to warm her if he could. Safety was just on the other side of these guarded doors, he could almost taste the clean air, but this is where they'd wait. Luckily for him, the Warden had swept through the tower and killed the abominations, so for now, they were as safe as they were going to get. And that brought comfort to Cullen. Sighing and then deeply inhaling, he looked down at the magess in his arms, her eyes still partially open. He choked and cringed, that dream of Astrid in the fade becoming a painful reality. If this was the end, he had only hoped he could have told her completely how he had felt instead of running away from them all this time. It was a burden he'd have to endure for the remainder of his life, a long life without knowing if she ever felt the same.

"Astrid..." he whispered, stroking the hair from her face, praying for a light in those eyes. "Astrid...I love you. Do you hear me?" he mumbled, "I love you Astrid...always have, and probably always will." Cullen glanced tearfully down at her, surprised to see her eyes were now closed. Was she gone now? The Templar trembled and hung his head, trying to be a man, but his emotions and fatigue were powerful. And as much as he didn't want to cry, he was struggling to stay awake, head bobbing with each breath. He hoped the Warden would be back soon as he closed his eyes, sleep welcoming him to an untainted dream as he felt a tickle at the back of his neck and a warm hand on his chest.

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><p>"Ser Cullen-" that voice he knew, began to stir him from a nothing dream, "Cullen, get up." His body was shaking from someone's hand, violently, but not on purpose. It worked however, and Cullen woke-up to a familiar face. A look of relief crossed Mathias' face as he knelt before his comrade, turning to signal the other templars standing by. "You're alive, I was sure- Godric and the others didn't make it," the Templar told Cullen, their other closest friend a victim to this chaotic attack. A pang of guilt shot through him, for he had ordered Godric and the others to go into the Harrowing Chamber without him. Mathias signaled the templars again and this time they stepped past him to help Cullen to his feet, to which he resisted, ready to insist on taking the body from his lap first; but upon looking down, there was none. Without aid he moved to his feet, scouring the corridor for Astrid, but Mathias was holding him back. "Cullen, she's not here..."<p>

He stared at his fellow Templar, found the look of bad news on his features, and turned to see the doors were open now. Within the next chamber were makeshift beds for the wounded, the front chamber now transformed into a temporary infirmary with the aid of healing mages. Cullen pressed past Mathias and his comrades, head twisting and turning as he searched every face, every back of the head. He saw the familiar alignment of the deceased against the wall, which reluctantly brought him to scan their features, but Mathias was back at his side and stopped him. He nudged in a specific direction with his head and stepped aside for Cullen to see. And there she was. Propped on a wooden cot by scavenged pillows, her open wounds had been dressed with bandages, and there were mages both tending to her with magic and keeping her company. "We found her clutching to you," Mathias said from behind him, "she's alive...but barely." He watched her eyes fall open and close, like she was in some magic-induced daze.

"Ser Cullen, will you please come with me..." a young elf mage was now at his side, carefully avoiding eye-contact with the Templar. "I-I can address your wounds," she stammered, realizing Mathias was with him too.

"Yes Miss he will, come on Cullen." Cullen had to be physically shoved by Mathias to make him move from where he had planted himself, and in the direction of a quickly made bench, the remains of an old bookshelf, where those with simple wounds were being taken care of. It was here he was forced to sit and allow the 'nurse' mages check him for wounds, but he didn't complain, he could see Astrid just fine where he was sitting now.

The elf mage worked carefully as she rolled up his sleeves to check for any scratches or cuts she might be able to heal, but all Cullen had were a few bruises. He watched as the mages tended to Astrid, and he couldn't help but be reminded of those lyrium daggers that had nearly sliced through her hands. Cullen observed until his view was blocked by another, so he looked up to ask them to leave, but was surprised to see the Warden again and with her, the man he still thought he knew. "Doing better are we?" she asked of him, hands on her hips.

"I- yes," he said, trying to look past her, "Thank you."

"I can see," the Warden too tried to see what he was, "I just wanted to see how you were doing after being trapped so long up there."

"I could kill them all," he answered, anger flaring again.

"Yes, well, I managed to save the First Enchanter and lucky for you, not many of the other prisoners were spared by Uldred." Cullen assumed they had to have been blood mages anyways and didn't care none the less, which the Warden dully noted. "Well then, we must be on our way eh Alistair..."

Cullen watched from the corner of his eye as the Warden turned to leave, but a surprising speak-up came from Mathias suddenly. "Warden, I was wondering if you knew of a recruit names Myrah..." This called the Templar's attention momentarily away from Astrid, and instead he looked at his friend with a bewildered look.

The Warden shook her head and stepped back towards them, "I'm sorry Ser, I was a late recruit. If there was a recruit named Myrah, I didn't meet her. I'm sorry."

"I met Myrah, she was an elf right?" the man named Alistair spoke from her side, looking down at the Warden when she turned to him in surprise. "What? She was a recruit I had to take into the Korcari Wilds-"

"Is she in your party?" Mathias asked desperately, Cullen still confused.

Alistair shook his head and took a long sigh, "I'm afraid all the other Wardens died at Ostagar. If she managed to escape...I wouldn't know."

Cullen saw pain corse through Mathias' face, a first, and hopefully the last. The Templar nodded at the Warden and her companion, and the couple left, bantering if he was hearing correctly. Then heavily, since he was still in full armor, Mathias sat on the bench beside Cullen and buried his face into his hands. The surprised Templar looked to Astrid, knowing Myrah had been her best friend since the jolly elf had first come to the Circle, and that she too had been devastated learning of the events at Ostagar. "I had heard that some Wardens managed to escape the battle at Ostagar," Mathias was now saying in a low voice. "I was hoping she...maybe..." his friend crumbled and sighed, "this is why Cullen, I told you falling in love with a mage is such a dangerous thing." Cullen immediately recalled that conversation before he was sent after the mages, and it finally made sense.

"You're right Mathias," he agreed, turning to the woman he loved, "it is a dangerous thing."


	20. Loyalty

**I can't believe I'm finally at twenty chapters! I honestly didn't think I'd stick around long enough for it, but I'm glad I did. This chapter goes out to my lovely reviewers: FlyingPigMonkey, Armandhas, Oxygen Pirate, and Adrianne Whitt. Even if these are the only ones who read my story, they're feedback gives me the encouragement to continue to write, so many thanks to you guys. I actually had this done last night, but I didn't like the ending, so I re-wrote the ending and ended up making the chapter longer. I couldn't think of a song to go with this chapter, so it is themeless this time. Alright, enjoy and review, I always respond :) Next chapter will probably be up soon! **

**Edit: Fixed the spelling mistakes at the end, thanks to Armandhas for pointing them out!**

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><p>XX. LOYALTY<p>

"All mages that were not part of the evacuated party will be incarcerated into their private chambers until the First Enchanter and I have cleared all mages of possible demonic possession and blood magic. Mages erring of the use of blood magic will be sent to the magi prison, Aeonar, immediately, and those who are not found guilty, will join the others and the Templars in the cleansing and rebuilding of the Circle Tower."

Cullen was very canny when he was assigned to escort the mages and apprentices to their rooms. All senior mages were allowed to return to their own room, whereas the apprentices made their dwellings in the quarters of the deceased. Greagoir intended to separate all the mages to prevent any potential schemes from survivors of Uldred's pack, an idea that worked, since most of the Circle's mages had died during the abomination invasion. There was no protest from the mages, since most were too tired or injured to complain, and in the most grave of cases, some were even too traumatized to even have a reaction. A traumatization he saw in Astrid as she limped, almost gracefully, to her room. Since the young mage had gain consciousness early this morning, she hadn't spoken a work, let alone, look anywhere else than the ground she treaded.

It pained the Templar to see her. The swollen discolored skin around her seemingly vacant eyes. The bruising fingerprints about her neck where the bloody- disgusting mages had touched her. He remembered the violent abrasions on her hands, hidden under heavy bandages, saturated in magical ointments. Cullen averted his eyes, just a stray thought of what other injuries may grace her lean body beneath those violet robes was maddening. He was fuming, burning with a passion to pry the mages apart, limb by limb. However, Cullen had to be satisfied with the efforts of the Knight-Commander, and know that the mages found guilty would be sent to a the dungeons of the magi prison. So he brought himself to look at Astrid again, lead to her bed by a templar and a mage, looking for that sliver of hope, that she was going to be alright.

Astrid's eyes floated away from the ground until they met Cullen's, he'd never seen a mage so 'empty' before. Wanting nothing more than to bring comfort and reassurance to her, the Templar smiled softly, a bare curve of the lips. The young mage's expression never wavered, she stole into his soul with a glassy wonderment and then turned her eyes before turning her head away from the Templar. Cullen ached more, she regarded him as just another Templar in the crowd that surrounded her doorway; and as the door closed, she never even attempted to peek again. He wondered what thoughts coursed through that lovely head of hers, hoping she'd forgive him. For being weak. For turning her away. For being angry with her all those times. All he could do was pray.

The Templars finished their rounds of bringing the mages to their rooms and leaving a Templar to guard the door, the Knight-Commander was going to take every pre-caution necessary. In an hour or so, they'd make their rounds again. This time distributing food and medical attention to the mages, allowing at least one night of rest before Greagoir would interrogate them each personally. Cullen was assigned to the first rounds, along with Mathias, whom had kept himself preoccupied since reluctantly confessing his affair to Cullen. It shocked him initially, the same stunning he felt when Mathias had said he knew of his affair with Astrid. He was surprised in general, but the Templar also felt a sense of relief knowing he hadn't been the only one to fall for a mage. However, as reckless Cullen and Astrid had been with their infatuation with one another, he would have never guessed Myrah to be the object of his friend's affection. They had hidden it so well.

Mathias was pacing the Lobby, now a substitute kitchen, helping with rationing the dinner for the mages. He'd been spending the time trying to avoid Cullen. Well busy with the task at hand, Cullen decided to wait to ask Mathias about Myrah at another time. Unneeded until dinner came around, the Templar decided to take a walk, something to keep himself busy and to clear his head. Templars were now restricted from leaving the Tower, so he had to make do with the curving passages of the tower, even though most of the Fade's disgusting decor still lingered. None the less, Cullen weaved through the clutters of Templars and towards the entrance of the Apprentice Quarter's hallway, where it was mostly empty except for the few Templars on guard. He nodded accordingly at his comrades, dressed in the entirety of their armor, not willing to take any chances. Cullen couldn't blame them for being worried, some of the mages who had trickled down after the First Enchanter had been recovered were acting suspiciously.

He tried not to think much of what happened to him during his imprisonment, he didn't like knowing Astrid hadn't been there all along. Knowing she was being tormented at the hands of blood mages was barely a sigh of relief from supposedly being taken by a desire demon in his presence. He almost wished she had been ravished by the desire demon instead, cause that would have meant he did save her from further torture. Cullen slumped against the wall. Maker, he wished he had saved her. That overwhelming feeling of guilt was drowning him where he stood, leaning into the wall. "Ser Cullen...are you alright?" a Templar patrolling through the corridor came to his side, watching his superior through the slit in his helmet.

Cullen nodded to the novice Templar and removed himself from the wall, "I'm fine, thank you." The Templar barely moved, unsure whether his comrade's answer was truthful enough. "Come on," the older Templar finally said, distracting the other from his obvious discontent, "We should be making our rounds soon." The excuse worked, although Cullen was sure he was right anyhow, and the young Templar nodded and left for the end of the hall.

He waited until the Templar was out of sight before sighing. Cullen remembered the conversation with himself as he carried Astrid away from the chapel, or what little remained of it. He was going to let her go. Accept that their relationship could never be. That he'd have to live knowing she would one day be in the arms of another mage, not him. But seeing her so broken and almost loosing her, Cullen couldn't image just turning a blind eye to the woman he loved. He didn't care that it was forbidden, or that it was 'dangerous', as Mathias continued to tell him. The Templar was madly in love.

As he returned to the main chamber, he was happy to know that the Templars were gathering to bring dinner to the mages; which meant he had the potential to see Astrid again. So he quickly joined the gathering of his comrades, helping fill a wooden cart with plates and silverware for the mages. When all was ready, they all marched through the Apprentice Quarters to the stairway, and together they carried the carts up the steps, until they reached the Senior Mage Quarters. An anxious feeling came over Cullen as they knocked on each door, the helping apprentices allowed in by the Templar guard to serve the occupant their dinner. Mathias had been put in charge and consciously gave Cullen Astrid's room. The apprentice knocked to call for the mage's attention, but there was no response like the others. So the Templar on duty opened the door carefully, and Cullen followed the young girl into Astrid's chamber.

The battered mage had stripped down into a nightgown, one sleeve hanging off a pale bare shoulder as she sat contently at the edge of her bed still. Cullen noticed her bandages had been redressed, but nothing else had changed. Astrid was as plain as before, ignoring her guests as they inched closer into the center of her room. He noticed she now stared emotionless at the wall, not even blinking. "I brought your dinner Miss Amell..." the young apprentice said cautiously, apparently intimidated by the red head's inattentiveness. Worried she might be scolded for failing such a minimal task, the apprentice pressed on, "You need to eat Miss...it'll make you feel better."

Cullen stirred as Astrid's lips parted, but barely, "Leave it on the vanity." He froze. Her voice carried loathing, hatred at its near purest. The apprentice cowered at the tone of her voice and moved to follow Astrid's blunt direction. The Templar was still. How had the kind hearted woman he knew, harden so quickly?

"Astrid..." he breathed over the silence, receiving a curious look from the apprentice. She didn't move, not even a flinch, and she still hadn't blinked. The apprentice scurried around him and out of the room, the atmosphere had suddenly thickened.

"On the vanity please," she repeated. And before he could protest, her Templar guard stepped into the room and pulled him into the hallway; just as a single tear stroked Astrid's bruised cheek.

He stood at her closed doorway as the group moved on, unable to except what he had witnessed. Such hatred. Cullen frowned sadly, running his hand down his face; what was he gonna do now? If she wouldn't even look at him, how was he suppose to mend things? Cullen's teeth clenched and he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, Mathias. "She's the worst of the mages," he said, implying to her wounds and the traumatic experience she endured in the chapel, "She's going to have scars Cullen, both physically and mentally."

The Templar shook his head, "Why won't she look at me..." That was the worst feeling, not knowing why Astrid wasn't even acknowledging his presence.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, "Cullen...they tortured her," he answered. "For days." Cullen was ready to respond again, but Mathias stopped him, shaking his head, "You don't even know what they did to her Cullen. You don't even want to know."

Mathias walked away to join the others, leaving Cullen heavy in thought, dark depressing thoughts. His friend was right, he didn't want to know, it would only make him feel the more guilty. He stood watching her door, his task now moving along in the distance. "She's pretty bad eh?" the Templar guard said from his post, trying to make conversation during a rather dulling job. Cullen nodded heavily, not sure he liked knowing the others had noticed just how bad she really was. "Odd really, I could've sworn she had been evacuated..." the Templar scratched the back of his helmet, Cullen assumed he was pondering beneath the metal headpiece. None the less, he had clearly caught the attention of the lamenting Templar. "Don't know how she ended up back up there..."

"What exactly do you mean?" Cullen asked, trying his best to sound more curious rather than desperate. The Templar seemed pleased to converse with him, anything to make the time go by.

"Well, some of the others said they were in the party that rescued her and that old mage that left with the Warden," the Guard started, relaxing his shoulders, "a few even had to hold her back when she thought the old mage had died." Cullen tried not to let that bother him, especially knowing that all the Templars had been having very interesting dreams of Astrid since before the attack. "Then Carroll was saying how he saw Mathias talking to her before she disappeared," at that, Cullen struggled to suppress his surprise, but the Guard didn't notice. "...but I told them that couldn't be true, cause I saw Mathias-"

"Sorry to cut you short lad, but I probably should have followed with my duties," Cullen waved in the direction the carts had moved, now long out of sight. The Guard paused disappointedly, but waved at his superior as Cullen went to chase down the dinner cart, and mostly Mathias.

His head swelled with questions, if Mathias had anything to do with Astrid ending up in the hands of those mages, it was going to take all his strength not to kill him. He hurried to catch-up with the group, if he could confront Mathias with others around, he would be less likely to have violent tendencies. However, unfortunately for his friend, as soon as he had rounded the bend of the corridor, Mathias was already heading in his direction and alone. The Templar rushed his friend, snatching him by the collar of his dusty tunic and threw him against the inner wall. Mathias barely struggled, too shocked by the attack to shrug Cullen off. "You knew she was up there!" the Templar boomed, trying to keep his voice down, "Did you tell her I was up there- Did you send her after me?"

"Get off of me!" Mathias managed to shove off his fellow Templar, still disturbed by Cullen's sudden rage. "Are you a fool?" he bellowed back, straightening his tunic, "Why would I send the woman you so blindly love into danger?" Cullen came at him again, but he managed to keep him off.

"You knew I was up there- you had to have told her-" Cullen argued.

"Listen to yourself Cullen!" Mathias pleaded, his temper just as hot as the other's now. He pulled a frustrated hand down the length of his face and scowled, "The blood mages have been targeting her since the start. Shouldn't you be pointing your finger at them!" The realization passed through Cullen, but it was already too late. Mathias paced from irritation, ignoring Cullen as he fumbled to apologize. "Don't...just don't Cullen," he sighed, shook his head and then looked back up at Cullen. "You need to straighten out your priorities. Where's your loyalty?" With nothing more to be said, Mathias marched back to the main chamber where the Knight-Commander would be waiting for them to return.

Cullen inhaled sharply, for he didn't have an answer.


	21. Damages

**Since I did kinda rush through the last chapter, and I knew this chapter was going to be very important for the next climax of this story, I wanted to take extra time on it. I really wanted to capture how Astrid felt during and after her ordeal, and I'm not sure I executed it so well? If not, I'll just emphasize in later chapters. In other news, I'm half-way through the next chapter for A Warden's Rose. I am contemplating re-writting my Mass Effect fic, Dark Incursion. I love the plot I have for it, but don't know if it's worth it :/ And thirdly, I am working on another Dragon Age project, which I think everyone will like. My idea is to take suggestions and requests from you guys for how the new story moves along, but it is still in phase-one, so I'll let you know more when I know more. Now onto Chapter 21, which kicks-off the second story arc for A Dangerous Thing. The end is near, I can assure you. Please review if you can, I always respond, and love to hear your feedback! **

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><p>XXI. DAMAGES<p>

Astrid's blasé persona quivered when the Knight-Commander spoke to her, only a few curious paces from where she was sitting on the edge of her bed. "We need to know what happened to you before Ser Cullen rescued you..." he had said, a truth she had never been made aware of when she grew conscious under the healing hands of the few mages still alive. Realizing he had found her beaten and broken, dehumanized by those bastard mages she once considered her friends was nearly worst then what they had actually done to her. The pain of the knowledge was immediate on her black-and-blue face as her jaw tightened and she inhaled sharply. "Miss Amell-" the Commander's voice fell silent when Astrid snapped her head towards him and her gaze fell over his shoulder.

"I will only speak to you and the First Enchanter," her eyes narrowed and fell dark again, "Knight-Commander." The mage's voice was eerie, hateful as she properly addressed him and gave her demand. Astrid's hard look fell beyond the Commander again, to a particular Templar with golden locks and a face heavy with worry. She saw the hesitation in the Knight-Commander's response as he looked to the First Enchanter for guidance, but the scarred mage wasn't about to tolerate negotiating. "I won't say a word until you send the others away," she repeated, although far more bleakly.

The Knight-Commander was still rather reluctant, but ultimately gave-in to the young woman's request. "Hadley," he called to his second in command, "Leave us. Be in the corridor should we need help." Hadley opened his mouth in protest, but was silenced by a single look from his superior. Following his orders, the Templar ushered the others into the hallway as one tried to protest but to no avail. When the room was left vacant, save for the the three of them and the door was securely shut behind them, the Knight-Commander drew his sword from his scabbard and narrowed his vision at Astrid. "Now, Amell, please tell me what happened up there..."

She didn't wish to relive those grievous days as prey for the blood mages, for the demons. Astrid squeezed her eyes tightly as she felt the urge to cry, the first in the week she had been freed from their grasp. "I- I went to save a friend...I thought I had saw her, hiding in her room- so I went back to help her." Of course that was a livid lie. The mage had gone to save Cullen, knowing where he would be since his friend had told her. She looked back at the armed Templar, thankful he had bought her exaggerated introduction.

"They found me..." Astrid remembered stumbling around the corner and falling to a stop when she found herself in the presence of a handful of mages, all covered in blood as they dropped a young mage by his collar. They approached her with little hesitation as she tried so desperately to crawl away only to be dragged along by her feet. "...they dragged me by my robes and hair into the chapel," her breath grew shaky, "Threw me against the alter as they laughed, one hit me with the end of their staff." Astrid reached to stroke the bruises on her face, "And they hit me again, and again, and again...until I could barely keep my head up."

Astrid saw the twitch in the Knight-Commander's lip, "That was just the beginning." There was a pause, as she tried not to loose it, "I was barely conscious when they began ripping my sleeves off and some of my skirt." Her jaw tensed again, "I tried to resist, but they restrained me...by stabbing my hands into the wall with some lyrium daggers they must have taken off some of the dead templars..." The young mage tried to remain calmed and relaxed, although her hands tightened into fists at her lap, "First they started to draw my blood, used to enhance their power I suppose. All I know, is the more blood I lost the more powerful they felt...like some overwhelming aura of wickedness."

"That wasn't enough however...," the young mage inhaled sharply and bit her lip, "The men took their turns." She could see the Knight-Commander's face grow pallid and Irving shift uncomfortably by his side, almost unbelieving what she was telling them. "They called me things, many things," she continued, "the women laughed, the men laughed, and then..." Astrid closed her eyes as the worst part of her story was coming to her," they summoned a demon." She had encountered the fiery rage demon as it erupted from the floor of her room, a molten pit still in the center of the chamber. However, she had never encountered nothing as terrifying as a desire demon, who came to her just as she was loosing her grip on reality and was slipping unconsciously into the fade.

"What demon did they summon Astrid?" came the shaky voice of Irving, whose own encounter with a pride demon was still lingering at the back of his mind. "Astrid..." he repeated when she turned away.

The red headed mage was reluctant, but muttered the name, "Desire."

"Speak louder Amell," the Knight-Commander said impatiently, his grip much tighter on his drawn sword.

"They summoned a desire demon," she answered more clearly, remembering the nightmare the demon had created for Cullen and her inability to prevent her place in his night terrors. Like the bloody incubus it was, the demon had taunted and tortured the two of them for days, but Astrid was sure she had received the worst of the demon's wrath.

"This demon, did it grant you your desire?" Irving was ready to protest the question, but after all the suspicion surrounding Astrid since Uldred had returned from the lost battle, he understood the Knight-Commander's own worries. It wasn't just any demon that granted the blood mages' their forbidden magic, but a desire demon that offered the damning deal.

There was a strung silence as the intentions of the templar's question were mistaken by the young mage, who realized the demon had found her desire, and it was Cullen. She was weak and incoherent, the very sound of the demon mimicking his voice brought instant comfort as she allowed the demon to seduce and caress her in his demonic form. Astrid could still feel the heat of the demon's touch and it made her toes curl within her boots. It was fake and just a figment of her being in the fade, but her longing to be with Cullen and in his arms again, allowed her to succumb to the demon's falsehood.

"Answer me!" The Knight-Commander suddenly yelled as he moved closer to intimidate her. Irving moved to stop him, but the Templar pushed him aside and reached for the collar of Astrid's robes. He pulled her towards him, until their noses barely touched. "Have you made a deal with a demon?"

Astrid shook and snarled at his hand holding her on the tip of her toes, "Let go of me." The Templar ignored her and continued to shake her some more, trying to scare her into a confession. She was ready to scream, the very idea of someone touching her after what she had endured was terrifying as the torment and rape flashed through her memories. The mage grabbed onto his wrist, "I said don't touch me." With a silent spell, Astrid set ablaze his gauntlet and fell back into her bed as the Templar wiggled way and rushed to put out the small flame.

The Knight-Commander was furious as he looked back at her, and was prepared to strike her down where she stood, "You filthy-"

"Filthy!" Astrid cried, almost laughing hysterically, "Disgusting...whore...Templar's bitch, they called me everything." She was trembling now, the entirety of her memories coming back vividly and replaying repetitively in her head. "You don't understand what they did to me..." Astrid interrupted in a now shallow, dark voice.

Before either of the men could respond she began to rip at her robes, tearing off the velvet sleeves of her purple robes and revealing the cuts up her arms, still fresh and red. "They fed from me," she trembled, removing the wounds addressed to her hands and flashing her palms at the Knight-Commander. "Not just blood, but lust too-" she groaned as she continued to pull at her clothing, exposing her bruising across her now bare legs as the rest of her robe fell and she stood in nothing but a short chemise. "They forced my legs open for their friends...and their demons," she whispered as she approached the Knight-Commander, "they stole any hope as a perfectly happy mage in this bloody tower, as the real filthy mages did as they pleased with me!" She was close to him now, causing the Templar to be unnerved. "Blood mages," she smirked, almost deranged, "mages I once called my friends, used me as bait to weaken your templars and plague their sleep with erotic fantasies of a mage who was always but obedient to the Templar rule." Tears now stroked freely down her face, "As a woman, my virtue has been ripped from me! I'm nothing now...but a disgusting mage. I have nothing! And I am nothing no more!"

She fell to her knees and cried, as the Knight-Commander stood paralyzed by what she had said, merely watching as the First Enchanter attempted to pull her off the ground. "Don't touch me!" she screamed and shoved Irving away from her with all her strength, which was quickly dwindling from the stress of the conversation. Astrid's eyes were red as the first of her tears rolled down her cheek and she began to hug her knees against her chest, her now open wounds beginning to bleed again.

The conversation was clearly ended and the Knight-Commander couldn't even bring himself to press her for more answers, especially since the mage hadn't answered the most important one. Seeing her torment was answer enough for him. Pushing his blade back into his silver scabbard, he gestured to the First Enchanter and then the door. Irving was reluctant at first to leave her alone, crying and rocking back and fourth on the ground, but understood there was no cure for emotional scars. So he moved towards the door first, using his staff as a supportive walking-stick with the Templar following closely behind. "Knight-Commander!" he stopped as the mage called out to him, and turned to face her once more. Her lip was trembling and her face was wetter, "Tell Ser Cullen...tell him, he should have killed me. Ran me through with his sword, and killed me."

The Knight-Commander couldn't manage to assemble an order to his wards as he stepped back into the corridor, a equally wordless First Enchanter in toe. Recruits from across Ferelden had been sent to the Circle throughout the week to replenish the Templars lost during the abomination invasion, and Greagoir had his hands full with keeping them busy. Whether it was helping to restore the tower to its former glory, or guarding the mages and apprentices at every second of the day, they were doing something. As was he, making his rounds from one mage to the next, trying to uncover the secrets behind Uldred's uprise. It was still fresh in all the survivor's minds, the terror and the torture some had undergone. But no other was as scarred as the mage whose room he left, the door hauntingly screeching by the hinges as it fell close behind him.

"Ser?" Hadley asked cautiously of his Commander, perplexed by Greagoir's unusual demeanor as he pressed through the gathering of Templars; all of which had been requested to leave the room. The old Templar rubbed the back of his neck and stroked his greying beard. He had been advised by the First Enchanter to save this mage last for his questioning, for the sake of her weakened state of mind, but now he almost wished he hadn't spoken to her at all. The full magnitude of a blood mage's capability now plagued every thought as he walked mindlessly down the hallway. This mage, no this woman would forever be changed.

"Irving, please send some of your healers to tend to Miss Amell's wounds," he gently ordered, glad to see the First Enchanter was able to direct a few waiting mages into the room. "The rest of you," Greagoir listened to sounds of resistance from within the room, "return to your posts."


	22. Scar Tissue

**I still can't believe I'm past twenty chapters! I never thought I'd last this long :) If it weren't for my lovely regular reviewers and you 20 people who have alerted this story, I would have given-up way back after the fifth chapter. Again, another tough chapter. I kinda like Greagoir, and feel like he had a soft side for some mages, not all, but some. Which is why he is a bit kinder than usual in this chapter. And there is a bit of foreshadowing in this chapter, and I'm sure there obvious. Last chapter I said we're coming to an end, but don't worry, this is only part one of Cullen and Astrid. There will be a short story that will bridge between this story and the sequel, so I'm working on that now so it will be ready for you readers :) Anywho, enjoy and review!**

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><p>XXII. SCAR TISSUE<p>

It had been a fortnight since Knight-Commander Greagoir had finished questioning the last mage, and only one worried him still. Astrid Amell. The rape and torture at the hands of those she had grown-up with clearly left her haunted, but he was still troubled by her involvement with a desire demon, even though it was clearly involuntarily. She still posed a threat to the Circle's rebuilding progress, and as weak as she was, any lingering demons could easily take advantage of that. Knowing this, Greagoir kept Astrid's cell cleansed of magic with the use of three Templars guarding her room. Until he knew the Circle had entirely been saved, he was going to keep her under close watch; much closer than any of the other mages. His decision was surprisingly met with approval from Irving, who himself was anxious over how vulnerable his most trusted mage was.

Greagoir sighed over his paperwork, his scratching quill coming to a standstill at the importance of his letter. If Amell couldn't convince him she was no longer a threat of becoming or being a maleficar in a months time, the Knight-Commander would have no choice but inquire the Chantry's permission to perform the Right of Tranquility on her. His letter had been half written from early suspicions concerning Amell before the abomination and blood mage outbreak, but now his undated post was almost finished, save for his signature. He didn't sign yet however, instead setting his quill into a small clay pot of ink and laced his fingers together, his elbows propped against the edge of his desk. The Knight-Commander had performed the Right of Tranquility before, but considering putting one of his most loyal and respected mages under the Right was upsetting.

He rubbed his chin against his gathered hands, taking notice to the rising commotion outside his office. Greagoir was without armor, currently off-duty, as the ruckus continued through the hall and outside his door. If another maleficar uprise was upon them, the aging Knight-Commander was in no shape to defend himself. The door abruptly sprung open and from the corridor Ser Cullen marched up to his desk, a flustered Hadley in tow. "I'm sorry Greagoir," the Knight-Commander's second pardoned, "I tried to stop him...but Ser Cullen is being stubborn." Hadley manipulated his voice to warn Cullen of his intrusion, which the Knight-Commander picked-up immediately.

Ser Cullen too was free of his armor, mostly due to his own injuries obtained during the invasion and because the Knight-Commander insisted he take a weeks time to regain his strength. Ever since he managed to escape from the Circle's highest chamber, the Templar had not only tired himself out by performing beyond his call of duty both day and night, Cullen was showing a questionable concern for Amell. If Greagoir was to guess, he'd assume Cullen was here to ask of that very mage. "Astrid- Amell, what did they do to her?" Cullen demanded as he shrugged off Hadley's hand tugging on his arm, "Please Greagoir, I must know."

Hadley's hand fell from the Templar's arm as he looked to Greagoir for direction, but the Knight-Commander was frowning in deep thought. Finally he pushed his chair back and moved to his feet, nodding for his second-in-command to leave his office. Hadley did leave, although reluctantly, and left him with Cullen, whom was still standing over the Knight-Commander's desk with his head hung. Only when Greagoir heard the distinct thud of the door closed behind Hadley did he inhale sharply, waiting for Cullen to speak again. The young Templar stood in silence for a while before slouching in a spare chair in front of Greagoir's desk. Cullen was clearly frustrated, and had a worried look that was uncomfortable for the Knight-Commander.

"Why must you know Cullen?" the older Templar said after the suspension was interrupting his time off. There was no reason for Cullen to need an answer, in fact, there shouldn't be a reason for him to ask at all. Sure he had rescued her from the chapel, perhaps he even saw the magnitude of her wounds first-hand; but under the Templar Order, Cullen should have just been satisfied knowing she was almost one less mage to worry about. "As far as I am concerned, your relationship with the mage is nothing beyond that of warden and prisoner," he had to be brutal with what he said, otherwise Greagoir worried he might hear something he wasn't allowed to turn his back to. "Any suggestion of a friendship with a mage is against the Templar Order Cullen," he continued, "you know this."

Cullen's eyes grew wide in guilt, there was no deceiving the Knight-Commander now. He drew his gaze away from his watchful superior, "The mage and I just have a great respect for one another...that's all." Greagoir could believe that, only because Amell had always been nothing but respectful towards the Circle's Templars and showed a rare understanding of her place as a mage. Even if it was an excuse, without further evidence, Greagoir didn't have much of a choice but to believe Cullen. "I just- she was covered in blood and so cold when I found her..."

"They forced themselves on her," Greagoir answered suddenly, catching the young Templar in horrified bewilderment. The Knight-Commander stepped back behind his desk and sat down, remembering the vague retelling by Amell, who was still unwilling to believe it all herself. "We can assume there were at least three involved in the sexual assault," he paused to see that Cullen's jaw tightened and his entire body appeared tense, "One being a demon." At that Ser Cullen finally met eyes with him, burning as he struggled to cope with what Greagoir was shedding light to. "They made a feast of her essentially," the Knight-Commander shuffled his papers nervously, he didn't like to think about it, "Fed off her blood to make them stronger, and well...abused her many ways."

Greagoir took in a deep breath and shuffled back to his feet, pacing away from his desk, "Do you understand why I am telling you this Cullen?" He glanced over his shoulder at the young Templar, whom reluctantly shook his head awaiting the answer. "This is private information Cullen, that Amell shared only with Irving and I," he proceeded to pace, "Not even Hadley has been informed of what that poor mage went through." The Knight-Commander paused with his hands behind his back, "It's no no secret now, the blood mages used their hatred for Amell to manipulate my Templars. Bewitching them in their dreams," Greagoir huffed and turned on his heel to Cullen, "Even I began to suspect Amell for the strange things that became to happen within these walls."

He saw the same anger in Cullen's eyes, now a blazing blue as he watched Greagoir and waited. "I suppose I am more so warning you rather than telling you anything," the Knight-Commander hardened his face and looked down his nose at his ward. "These feelings you think you have for Miss Amell," he confronted, stirring another stupefied expression from the young Templar, "They aren't real. The blood mages, they entered your dreams, found that longing for the touch of a woman...They're not real." Cullen sat silently. "She is a mage!" the Knight-Commander said loudly, trying to clearly send his message. "You are a templar! The sooner you understand these feelings are nothing but imaginary feelings, bred from demons and blood magic! The better!"

The Knight-Commander stepped back behind his desk, planting his hands against the desk, and leaning forward to further intimate his follower. "Do I make myself clear?"

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><p><em>"Why don't we have some fun with her..."<em>

_"Ha, go ahead, the bitch deserves it!"_

Astrid's eyes softly fluttered open to a cold quite room, the silence allowing her to slip deeply into her thoughts. She felt oddly alone, although the slow turn of her head revealed two Templar guards waiting patiently at the doorway of the chapel. A soiled sanctuary of splintered pews and crumbling monuments, the mage sat properly in the center of the remaining pew. She was but a few paces from where she was once a stain against the altar, a smear of her blood still remaining along the side of a fallen statute of Andraste. Even though the Maker had clearly turned his gaze from this very room, Astrid was strangely at ease, even as she could still hear her screams echoing through the high ceiling. She closed her eyes again, voices of those that taunted her could be heard again, and she could see each of their faces.

_"Aw come on Astrid, why don't you scream some more?"_

_"I know what'll get her screaming..."_

Her shoulder grew heavy. Astrid's head snapped to the side, but there was no one there, just the daunting feeling of being watched from the dark. She subconsciously touched her shoulder, bothered by the icy sensation as her fingers brushed along her robes. Then her hair strangely brushed over her shoulder without so much of a stray breeze or her own hand. The mage jumped to her feet and scoured the chamber for a fourth party, but only found her Templar guards had barely moved a hair from where they stood. Astrid could hear laughing in her head, their laughing and cackling as they did things to her. It was torture to know her happiest memories of the chapel were overshadowed and destroyed by what happened. Even if the only pew standing had started it all.

"Not yet Astrid...not yet..." The redhead whipped around to the whispering of her voice. So real, she had felt the warm breath against her ear. Yet again, nothing could be found. Her spine eerily trembled, as if a ghostly finger probed through her flesh and stroked each link in her back. Astrid held her breath, listening, waiting for the haunting to continue. But as soon as it had been there, it was gone, and the mage was alone again.

Astrid stood over where she had been imprisoned, outlining her mangled body as she stroked the heavy scars on either side of her hands; a reminder of what happened here. While most of her wounds had been healed by magic, the awful wounds inflicted to her hands would forever remain. While most internal contact with lyrium, whether ingested or impaled in Astrid's case, would kill a mage instantly; the lyrium in the daggers were subtle enough to sedate her, but had rejected all healing magic. She stared into the palms of her hands, the scars resembled a white disfigured star that glowed slightly whenever she tried to use magic. Without her staff to channel her magic, she was completely impotent.

"Miss Amell?" She turned quickly, startled, and found one of the Templars towering over her. Any emotion he may have was masked by his helmet, save for the shadowy slit at his eyes. "It's past curfew, we need to get you back to your room."

She glanced back at the now tainted altar, her anxiety rising the longer she stayed in the chapel. Astrid turned back and faced the doorway, walking past the Templar and hearing his heavy footsteps following closely behind. The corridor was unexpectedly warmer than the chapel, and that did little to ease the mage's angst as the Templar following her paused at the doorway and intentionally looked at the altar, as if something had caught his eye. She watched the slight shrug of his shoulders and as he stepped into the hallway, while the other began to close the chapel door.

"Astrid..." Her head bobbed up slowly, just as a puff of violet smoke dissipated into the darkness. And Astrid then knew. This was not over.


	23. As Sad As Beautiful

**So I was hit with the worst writer's block ever! Which is why this chapter is soo late! The chapter was mostly done too, I just couldn't get the ending to be the way I wanted, but I think it is now. I really wanted this chapter to reflect on Astrid's struggle with her feelings for Cullen and whats become of her, so please let me know if I captured it even the slightest. I have the next few chapters planned in my head and I hope they make sense and are realistic in terms of the DA universe, but you'll just have to wait to see what I mean. I'll try my best to update much sooner than this with the next chapter, enjoy, and please review :)**

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><p>XXIII. AS SAD AS BEAUTIFUL<p>

"I'll take her from here boys." Astrid felt his eyes bore into her and after all this time avoiding him, she couldn't bring herself to look away. He appeared rather tired, dark circles beginning to brim around his pallid blue eyes. Cullen was watching her through a heavy gaze, slowly looking away and dragging his inspection to the Templar guard on her right. "You both must be tired," he was cleverly appeasing to every Templars' current wish: a good night of sleep. Sleep that all the Templars had been denied since the Blood mages' rebellion was brought to an end by the Warden. The two guards shared a shadowed look through their shiny helmets. "Besides," the convincing Templar continued, "I've got guard duty till dawn, might as well take over escorting the mage to her room while the two of you head in early." The Templars were still silently debating between one another, but Astrid knew they'd be convinced.

Finally one Templar nodded, while the other released a yawn he'd been stifling through most of the night. "Alright, she's in your hands now," one agreed, his voice vaguely audible through his helmet, "Thank you Ser Cullen." Astrid bowed her head nervously as the guards brushed past her, nodding politely in farewell. She felt entirely alone in Cullen's presence, like no other soul inhabited this tower save for the two of them.

Astrid steadily raised her eyes to meet Cullen's, dark and smoldering as he was watching her again. Abruptly her body grew hot. She breathed in deeply to clear her head, but her senses were suddenly flooded with the Templar's scent: an overwhelming mixture of pine and sweat, spicy and burned into her nostrils. The mage inhaled again and this time her knees buckled, nearly causing her to fall. "Astrid-" Cullen called, his voice sending a shudder through the whole of her body. The Templar rushed to her side and steadied her at the hips before she could push him away. His aroma was consuming her, and mixed with the heat radiating from his hard physique was unbearable. Astrid bit her lip, her dwindling restraint keeping her from begging the Templar to touch her.

She was scared. Not of Cullen's tempting touch as he stroked her sides, or of being caught in such an intimate stance, but of herself. Astrid had never felt this way before, so disconnected from her conscious and unable to control the desire to have her current needs met. The mage had longed for Cullen in the past, but she had never lusted for him like she did now. Through his off-duty attire, Astrid could envision Cullen's chiseled abs, scarred and bruised from his ordeal with the Blood mages; every muscle rippling as he took her. The mage grew weak again, but Cullen was there to keep her on her feet, worriedly pressing his forehead against hers. It was suddenly too much, and Astrid forcefully pushed the Templar away and fell back into the wall.

"Astrid, what is wrong?" he demanded after a second of recovering from her rejection, unable to comprehend her strange behavior. Astrid was avoiding eye contact, but just from his voice the mage could taste Cullen's kisses, bitter with ale and a subtle hint of cinnamon. The mage had never been so aware of her senses, their sudden enhancement continued to drive her mad. She stayed hushed, eyes closed as she breathed rashly through clenched teeth.

The Templar wondered how her behavior had made a second frantic turn for the worst since he'd rescued her from the chapel. From being as coldhearted as those that tortured her, to how she was now, afraid and frantic. Cullen knew he couldn't blame her for the way she was, especially after learning what had happened to her from the Knight-Commander. His fingers curled into his palms, he was angry, but the suspended Templar was frustrated too. He saw fear in her large dark eyes, hatred even, feelings he could only assume she now had for him. Cullen ached to profess his love to her, sweep her into his arms, and make amorous love to her; but she had shoved him away from the simplest touch, and as much as it hurt, he only longed for her more.

Cullen brought his hands to his face, wiping the sweat from his brow, the temptation thickening in his trousers. "Astrid, please don't push me away," he begged, stepping to where she was still leaning against the wall. "You- you know I- I'd never hurt you..." his plead came as an unfamiliar stutter, a slip he usually never had when he spoke to the mage. The Templar saw her body tremble, and her red lips part in heavy breathing as he inched closer. He placed his hands on either side of her against the cold stone wall, the barest touch of their bodies setting him on fire. He pulled one hand away and pushed her hip into the wall, keeping her from fleeing his caress. Bizarrely entranced, Cullen stroked the curve of her side, up between her heaving breasts and settled at cradling her neck, forcing Astrid to meet his gaze. They were so close, closer than they had been in what felt like centuries for the Templar, whose own overeagerness was surprising even to himself.

The mage had arched her back as he touched her, watching his hand under dark lashes as both of their struggles seemed to melt away. His forehead met hers for a second time, Cullen's hot breath heavenly against her chilled cheek. Dry lips met hers, but only faintly, as if Cullen was testing the tension, or simply teasing her. Again Astrid felt his lips, barely welcoming them when she kissed him back. Her hand found the back of his neck, hopelessly forcing him to kiss her more deeply as her free hand pulled his waist against her. Astrid needed to feel his need to satisfy her own, demanding he kiss her hard and passionately as she opened her mouth to him. The mage drank in his masculine smell as he licked the length of her neck, his wet appendage sucking at her glowing skin. His hands roamed, until Cullen found the loose knot at the top of her night robes, exposing more pale flesh as the black garb slipped down her shoulders.

Astrid bit her lip, she needed this, she deserved this. "_Yes, yes you do._" The air went stale and the mage had a wild look in her eye again as the passion died abruptly. She knew that voice, it had been haunting her since she had opened her eyes that dreadful morning after her rescue. Familiar, yet so foreign as she heard the words vibrate against her ear, but she could see no one from the corner of her panicking eyes. Then it was there, watching from over Cullen's shoulder, just a mirage of colored smoke and hazy features, but she knew those yellow eyes. She had suffered its touch, its infliction of pain as she felt the brink of death come to her. Death. Astrid's head began to spin. All the pain she had endured hit her like whiplash and the agonized mage threw Cullen to the ground.

As soon as he hit the ground, Cullen felt the same change. The sexual charge in the air had fizzled into something less lusty, and rather than ravage her, the Templar wanted to comfort her. "Astrid-"

"No!" The weak mage whispered desperately, grabbing at her arms and pushing her back against the cold wall. Astrid closed her eyes to avoid his pained gaze, a look that told her he knew; he knew what she had endured. Just as much as she wanted Cullen to hold her, she could barely stand for him to look at her. "I can't," the now sobbing redhead shook her head.

The Templar was standing again, unwilling to let the magess slip through his fingers again. He quietly strode towards her for a second time, holding her by the shoulders in the shadow of the corridor. "I know what they did to you Astrid, and I would never hurt you like that," he carefully whispered to her, but Astrid continued to keep her eyes at their feet. He didn't want her to feel ashamed or to be afraid ever again, not like this. Finally Cullen forced her to look at him, her eyes were dark from barely sleeping and red from crying, yet the grey flecks of her irises still sparkled. "Let me take the pain away," he suggested to the young mage as he stroked away hair from her face, "Let me save you from this."

She cried, quietly, hot tears streaming down her cheek and over the patient Templar's hand. Staring into his clear blue eyes, Astrid wanted nothing but to believe he could ease her suffering so simply, whether it be with words or his touch. "Kiss me Cullen," she requested softly, stepping up to him. She needed to know if there was still hope.

Their noses touched first, before he covered her lips with his, and the frenzy from moments before had melted away. The embrace was beautiful and Astrid found herself crying again, but it only gave more reason for Cullen to deepen the buss. It was a blunt reminder of their first kiss, a clumsy tremble in the now desecrated chapel; where it all had began and ended for Astrid. She felt her heart race, like an untouched virgin awaiting the moment, but it was comforting, for Cullen's heart was pounding too, and she could feel it heavily against her chest. And just as it was perfect, the mage felt her body burn and ache again. Suddenly the perfection that was Cullen was a demon degrading her, and although is was just a terrible flashback, the mage broke their kiss.

Cullen felt her hand slide over his and press it against her cold cheek, a hopeful sign, but he was wrong. "You can't," she whispered in a single breath. Astrid stepped away from the Templar and the wall, leaving him standing alone as she left for her room, only beginning to run once her former love was out of sight.

Astrid had her back against the cold wood of her closed door before giving thought that Cullen might have followed after her, but after a few minutes of silence she knew he hadn't. The mage closed her eyes, pained, the Templar nearly had taken the hurt away. She opened her eyes and a shaky sigh left her lips, her breath was a wisp of fog in the frigid air. Her bedchamber appeared empty save for herself, but Astrid knew better than to think so; and the dark ring of laughter confirmed her own fears. The mage padded to her vanity, where she sat down and bore into her reflection with disgust. She was so weak, so pathetic, and all Astrid could do was cower while the rest of the tower went on with their lives.

Angry in such a wrath she had never experience before, the mage dug her nails into the edge of her vanity and clenched her teeth, but something caught her eye, a glitter of light that softened her frustrated features. Astrid reached for Myrah's necklace, the first she had noticed it since the tower had been taken, and it brought back a rush of happier days.

For a moment it felt as if the bubbly elf was with her, comforting her, but a ghostly voice reminded her otherwise. "_She's gone," _it teased, ricocheting across her stone walls, "_She'll never come back for it."_ Astrid could hear the click of the demon's tongue against her ear, breath so cold it burned against her ear, "_The elf broke her promise." _The mage was mad, desperately trying to ignore the whispers of the fiend as it probed her already weak nerves. She felt the evil spirit breathe into her other ear, chuckling, "_Didn't the Templar too make a promise? To protect you from them?" _The redhead stiffened, her face a pallid blank reflection in the mirror as she finally caught sight of her stalker from the Fade. "_Protect you from me?"_

The mage's hand curled tightly around her necklace as if to hold onto her receding sanity, but it was becoming too late and she felt herself slipping. Astrid knew if she didn't do something soon, there would be no hope to hold on to. She stared back at herself, and like a bad omen, the mirror cracked.


	24. Distractions

**Tada, this story is NOT dead, I've just been crazy busy. It's been ridiculous to be honest, and then Mass Effect 3 came out and then it broke my heart...so I've been playing Dragon Age again, to cheer me up and to inspire me. I've actually been working on this chapter for a while, I just had a terrible writer's block that just wouldn't let me finish it, until today, finally :) This chapter is to everyone who has ever faved, alerted, reviewed this story and have continued to follow it even though I've been practically MIA the last three...four months. If it weren't for you guys, I'd have given this up instead of continued it. So thanks and enjoy!**

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><p>XXIV. DISTRACTIONS<p>

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><p>Cullen had laid awake most of the night, far too frustrated and worried to close his eyes. He watched her walk away again. Again. Enraged, the Templar's lingering fingers curled into fists at the sound of her leaving before he padded off towards his own quarters. Worried, he only managed to doze for a scarce few hours before settling on staring at the ceiling until morning came. And even as it had, Cullen remained restless and wanted nothing more than to remain in his bed. However, today was the day he was to return to his duties and if he didn't leave the room now he'd be late for breakfast. Although he wasn't hungry, Cullen knew the Knight-Commander was expecting a loyal templar out of him.<p>

So the loyal Templar was quick to get to his feet and properly fasten his armor before approaching the dining hall. Hopelessly trying to bring pause to Astrid's last words. _"You can't." _Her bothersome words brought him to a halt at the mouth of the dining hall, where the sounds of a hearty breakfast echoed throughout the chamber. There was still sadness lingering about everyone as they ate in mostly hushed conversation, just trying to get through another day. Cullen inhaled sharply. He could see Ser Mathias quietly eating his meal, the usually occupied spot next to him now vacant with the death of Ser Godric, but Hadley was not there this morning, and the Templar wondered if there was still serious business with the rebellion to be dealt with later.

"Good morning...Cullen." Cullen felt his body instinctively jolt at the familiarity of the voice and a long cold chill ran down the length of his spine, which lead to his hesitation to turn around, but he did.

And what a dreadful sight it was. Standing timidly in the natural light, dressed in her heavy dark robes with her bandages just peaking beneath her sleeves, Cullen saw for the first time the real horror of Astrid's pain. Although healing, the bruises about her face were still discolored and noticeable, but in her favor, there was no longer any swelling. It made him sick all over again to see her like this, and took all of his self restraint from embracing her. "Astrid," he muttered, "Are you alright to be up about?"

The mage bobbed her head gently and smiled falsely at him, "With so little mages now, my help is needed." Cullen saw that her two Templar guards were still closely following behind their charge, whether it was for protection or a precaution, the Templar was unsure. However his staring caught the attention of the magess, who quickly made an attempt to sway Cullen's attention. "You should eat Cullen," she whispered while stepping up to him and grabbing his hand, "You look awfully pale." The young Amell's hand twitched as she sub-consciously raised it, but with a painful sigh she dropped it and worry flashed across her battered features, "You've been through so much Cullen...you need to take care of yourself."

Their eyes met then, and the Templar wondered if that was Astrid's try at apologizing, but he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on it. At that moment their fingers touched, surprising him, however suddenly Cullen could remember that beautiful sensation her touch always had on him, and when that had passed, he felt the lightness of parchment pressed into his palm as she dropped her hands again. "I'll eat," he quaintly responded in a murmur, meeting her gaze with a warming smile, "If you promise to eat."

"Then I promise," Astrid answered as she stepped past him with a grin, pausing briefly for a final word, "Don't let me distract you any further from taking care of yourself Cullen."

Cullen stood still as she swept past him in her ebony robes, followed closely behind by her guardians, the small folded parchment curled into the secrecy of his palm. The Templar smirked at the similarity of her words. "You're not distracting," he whispered, pausing to press the letter into the crevice of his boot for safe keeping. He'd wait until night to read her note, carefully looking about to assure that no one had noticed, but as he looked back into the dinning hall, another familiar face was waving at him in eagerness. Mathias.

The Templar passed through the hall towards his friend, and sat where a plate had already been made-up of this morning's breakfast, a task his friend must have seen to. Mathias gave Cullen a friendly pat on the shoulder, which was a noisy clinking of steel gauntlet against steel armor plating that was loudly heard over the low conversation. "Was that your mage you were speaking with?" his friend inquired in fervor, passing a tankard of ale to the distracted Templar, whose focus had found Astrid eating nimbly with only a few other mages. "It is probably good to see her outside her _prison_," he went on to add, following Cullen's gaze to the red head, whom was now chatting quietly with an apprentice. Mathias downed the last of the ale in his goblet and waved over an apprentice working within the hall, she came with another full goblet, and the Templar turned back to Cullen as he was finishing a piece of toast.

"It's a shame what they did to her." Cullen froze. The fork within his grasp nearly slipped from his fingers to the floor, but instead it grew tighter, and he placed it carefully along his plate. "She may be a mage," his friend went on, sipping on his ale as he dazed into the distance, "but no mage should endure such defilement as she had." Mathias was suddenly a mere shadow of the man he knew, his eyes narrowed darkly at the subject of his comment, a feat that Cullen found overwhelming disturbing as his friend went on. "To be tainted as she was by a demon..." the templar tsked, as Cullen watched him with knitted brows, "Tis a shame-"

"How do you know that?" Cullen abruptly demanded, his temper flaring behind the collected visor of his expression. No other soul knew of Astrid's torment save for Greagoir and the First Enchanter, and Cullen swore an oath never to speak a word of it; so for Ser Mathias to know such intimate details was beyond troubling for the Templar.

Ser Mathias looked surprised, "You told me of course."

_Impossible. _It had but been hours since the Knight-Commander begrudgingly told Cullen of the mage's haunting ordeal, facts that still left the Templar uneasy whenever he thought of it. So to relay the morbid details to someone was not only difficult for Cullen, but also against the promise he had given Greagoir to keep his lips sealed. "No I didn't," he answered sternly, seeing Mathias' stature waver slightly.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Mathias apologized as he got to his feet, finishing his ale for a second time that morning and proceeding to straighten his armor. "You've had a rough few days, and last night was probably pretty stressing," the Templar was muttering as he adjusted his belt. "Tonight, you should get some rest," he added just before heading to leave the dining hall, his boots echoing loudly as he made haste.

"Mathias, wait!" Cullen quickly got to his feet and called after his friend, but the Templar had already rounded the corner.

This wasn't right, he didn't tell Mathias anything, which something terribly was wrong. As Cullen tried to wrap his head around the sudden mystery, he looked up to meet Astrid's worried fixation on him. This was bad, very bad.

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><p><em>Cullen was furiously pacing the corridor along the Apprentice Quarters, trying to jog the memory of where he was to patrol until supper, but nothing was coming to mind. The novice Templar was just six months shy since becoming a full fledged Templar, and being immediately shipped to the Circle Tower did little to ease him into his duties. Even under the guidance of Knight-Commander Greagoir, Cullen was still struggling with his new responsibilities. However, since coming to the Circle Tower, the Templar fledgling had met the only person to even give him a sense of peace.<em>

_"Good afternoon Ser Cullen." The young Templar turned to his greeter, expecting a fellow Templar or perhaps an initiate, but instead Cullen was surprised to find himself in the presence of a budding mage: Astrid Amell. She smiled sweetly up at him, just as youthful as the Templar himself, reminding him that he was only a year or two older than the apprentice. Cullen suppressed his frustration into an awkward smile, standing a little taller as she stepped closer to him. Astrid Amell was a model apprentice, raised within the Circle as a wee infant, she had a unique understanding and loyalty to the Templars that most mages rejected. However it wasn't her kindness nor loyalty that pacified Cullen. Astrid was graced with beauty by the Maker himself and that left the Templar speechless as she continued to smile up at him._

_Eyes wondering, Cullen soon realized he hadn't responded and made quick to shake the lewd thoughts from his head. "Miss Amell, it," he took a deep breath to calm his stammering, "It is good to see you again." Cullen never could understand it, but whenever he was around the apprentice, his stuttering was nearly non-existant. Astrid smiled again, hugging the small collection of books closer to her chest._

_"You can call me Astrid Ser Cullen," she corrected him, "I do hope with all that time together, you consider me now a friend?"_

_Cullen nodded, "O-of Course." Astrid was his guide the day after his arrival, showing him every crook and cranny of the tower, where the Templars sat for meals, the room where he would now reside in, and the Chantry, perhaps the most surprising part of the tour. A place where she could 'find peace' was what she told him, sitting from the front pew, tilting her head to smile up at him; a smile that was both hopeful, but sad._

_"Good," she replied, piercing the sudden flashback, "Now, I should probably stop distracting you from your duties and get back to my studies."_

_"Oh, you're not distracting-" the Templar found himself blurting just as the apprentice had turned her back to retreat to her chamber. The young Amell turned back to Cullen with a coy smile. "I mean you are-" he recanted, but only confused the apprentice more, "but, well...you're not." The novice Templar paused to catch his breath and as he fixed his gaze on her, their eyes met, and Cullen knew what he wanted to say. "I mean, you can talk to me anytime you want..."_

He woke with a start, partially confused as he gazed about the room. It was but a dream, something he hadn't done in what felt like decades. For once he slept well, and although startled, the Templar felt well rested for the first time this week. Cullen sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed, rubbing his eyes as he tried to remember the dream, a long forgotten memory. Which sparked a more recent memory. The Templar tore himself from the warmth of his bed, where he quietly shuffled to his boots and plucked Astrid's secret note from within. Luckily, a single candle still burned at his bedside which allowed enough light to read the contents. Content that only validated what Cullen already knew.

Things were about to get worse.


	25. The Last Night

**Love this chapter! It's an important chapter for Cullen and Amell's relationship, and because of that I really wanted to take my time with it, because I felt it was very important for the upcoming final chapters and the sequel I am planning. In other things, I am still working on _A Warden's Rose_, just at a much slower pace, but hopefully another play through of DA:O will help with that :) I am also working on a story about Myrah, which I hope you guys will enjoy. Please let me know what you think, and I'll be back to update soon :)**

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><p>XXV. THE LAST NIGHT<p>

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><p><em>In three nights at midnight, when the new moon begins its cycle, meet me in the basement where I'll be waiting. I need your help. Please trust me Cullen, and remain unseen when you arrive. - A<em>

Cullen laid awake, waiting until the new moon was centered in the midnight sky. It was the final night, and upon Astrid's pleading letter, he would go to her. So he waited until the dead silence of the witching hour passed, and his chamber mate was long gone dreaming within the fade, before the Templar pulled a cloak over his shoulders and padded across the room in just his wool socks. He didn't need to remind himself how to get there, Cullen instead focused on staying in the shadows of the dimly lit corridors and watching his step down the dark stairways.

It wasn't long until he found himself standing before the basement door, illuminated by torches on either side of the heavy entry. Cullen felt a pang of curiosity as he descended the steps towards the door. Why did Astrid need his help? Why the basement? Was it even Astrid waiting for him behind the final door? The thought brought a pause to his step and fear swept through the Templar, he could not endure another trap, another torturous mirage of the mage he so craved. But then Cullen remembered her note asking for his trust, and as far as he'd come, that would have to be enough to get him through that door.

He carefully pried the door open enough for him to squeeze through without being noticed and closed it in silence behind him. As he turned to seek Astrid, he found her just at the corner of the hall, standing over two slumped Templars. She turned to him panting as he quickly came to her side, striding past her to examine the fallen knights. "They're fine," she murmured, her entire figure shrouded in a dark hooded robe. Cullen was still looking for any signs of a dead Templar when the mage continued, "I used a sleep spell on them, they'll wake in the morning unharmed."

"Entropy..." the Templar gasped, very few mages ever dabbled into that magic. It wasn't a forbidden arts like Blood Magic, but Cullen only knew of Senior Enchanters ever accomplishing that branch of spells. He looked up to Astrid from where he knelt beside the bodies, surprise still staining his features as the young mage did little to look guilty of her knowledge. "How do you- how can you possibly-"

"Don't look at me like that Cullen," she answered darkly. He heard the strain in her voice as her breathing continued in heavy huffs and he could see just how weak Astrid had become. There was dark circles around her tired eyes, and with all the faint bruising, the mage looked sickly. It pained him to see her in such a state, but Astrid only brushed off his worried gaze and approached the Victims' Door, a specially crafted entrance built of two hundred and seventy-seven planks, one for each original Templar. He watched her eye it carefully before leaning into the nearest wall. Cullen rushed to aid her, but the young Mage held him back with her hand, she was trying so hard to stay strong.

The Templar waited as she balanced herself again and stepped closer to the door. "Astrid what are we doing here?" he asked with a sigh as she brushed her hand against the rough surface of the entrance.

Astrid turned to him, red hair falling out from beneath her hood as she looked at him. "Say the password Cullen," she demanded, returning to the distance she originally was from the Victim's Door. The Templar hesitated, and there was no hiding it from the eager Mage, but Cullen wasn't expecting this secret meeting was to break into the Circle Tower's basement. He glanced at his feet before meeting Astrid's eyes, begging him to do as she asked.

"Sword of the Maker," he gave in, slightly comforted by her soft smile, "Tears of the Fade."

She nodded in thanks and stood straighter to do her part in opening the Victims' Door. Astrid inhaled deeply before stretching her hand towards the door, summoning a flare of magic as soon as her fingers uncurled towards the door. However, just as a flicker of magic appeared it fizzed away just as quickly, leaving a puzzled look on the mage's face. Cullen too was confounded, not once had he ever seen a mage fail at passing magic through their fingertips until now. Astrid stood still, shielding her confused emotions from the Templar as he stepped towards her. "Astrid-" he barely whispered before the mage forced a second try, this time a blast of magic passing through the door, but only at a quarter of a mage's true strength.

The door clicked open, and Astrid was the first to slip through before Cullen followed after her. Although obviously weaker from the forced spell, Astrid was keeping her pace ahead of him through the second door at the end of the corridor. Since passing through the Victims' Door, Cullen felt a change in the aura of the chamber, and upon closer look he recognized Templar wards carved through out the hallways, which meant magic from this point on was useless. "Astrid!" he called hushly after her, cautious of any guards that might be patrolling this area. The mage ignored him, instead progressing further ahead, agitating Cullen. "Astrid!" he grabbed her by the arm gently, but she still gasped and hissed in pain. "We must be careful, if there are guards your magic is useless-"

"There are none," she answered softly, yanking her scarred forearm free of his grasp. Astrid allowed Cullen to walk at her side as they continued into the next chamber, "After that bastard Jowan broke into the phylactery chamber, they had increased security down here." She was whispering to him as the two of them tiptoed around the corner, "However, after the mage rebellion, the Knight-Commander assumed most trouble mages were slain and now only has those two Templars guarding the door." Although he wasn't sure how Astrid would of known that, he accepted her answer and they moved forward.

It grew colder as they progressed seamlessly through the passage, Cullen following just a step behind Astrid, whom would stumble every few steps. She was struggling. Not just with the moving around in an injured state, but also with her magic. Just a simple spell to phase through the Victims' Door had knocked the wind out of the mage, and Cullen couldn't forget the fact she was unable to accomplish the task in her first attempt. "Does it hurt to use your magic?" he inquired, breaking the brisk silence that had brewed between them. The Templar watched as Astrid's fingers curled into fists and then flexed open as she stopped before the next door. She hesitated to turn around, trying to avoid his piercing blue gaze.

"I merely made the mistake of trying a difficult spell," she stammered, trying to be confident in what she was saying, "That is all-"

"Don't lie to me," Cullen cut in, closing the distance between them as her eyes widened. He touched her arm again and felt her flinch, but the Templar refused to let her free of his soft grip. The last time they had been this close and alone, the two were swept up in a frenzy of lust, but that feeling wasn't here now. All Cullen felt now was worry, and that beautiful sensation whenever they touched. In the moment it felt like none of the terrible things had ever happened, none of the torture or pain, not Anders nor Ostagar; he didn't want it to go away. "Can you at least tell me why we're hear Astrid?"

The scarred mage met Cullen's focused gaze and pushed the palm of her hands against his chest, "Through this door is the repository." Astrid was stalling from having to step away from the warmth of his nearness, but she did reluctantly and turned towards the closed doorway, "Inside will have what I am looking for." Cullen nodded and then followed her into the repository where the Circle kept their collection of magical artifacts, including a few Tevinter items. He spun around to scan the entire span of the room, catching a glimpse of the partial repair of the wall broken down by Astrid's friend and the escaped blood mage, through there would be the phylactery chamber, but the mage ignored it entirely and approached a dusty old bookshelf. Cullen gave Astrid her space, watching from afar as he leaned against a column within the room.

As she fingered through the dusty books and scrolls, Astrid paused to admire Cullen, standing patiently behind her. He was watching her with that same worried look he'd been giving her all night, but this time with a warm smile. She turned back to the bookshelf, but stopped again to face him. "Thank you...Cullen," she said in a gentle voice, "for doing this- coming here with me." She had been nothing but cold and standoffish since the embarrassment of her failed spell, but it meant a lot to her to have him here with her, but that wasn't all. Cullen's smile had turned sleepy, but he still nodded at her.

"I could never deny you Astrid."

Astrid went back to the shelf she was searching with a smile, carefully reading the titles on the spines of each book until her fingers brushed the dust off the title she had come for. The mage pulled the book from the others and blew away the dust on its cover. Finally she had it, but there was one more thing she needed to do. She placed the heavily paged book on the nearby table and fully turned to Cullen, "There's actually one more reason I asked you down here." For a moment the Templar looked doubtful, which only made Astrid the more nervous as she attempted to move closer to him, "I promise I'm not going to turn into some lecherous demon." Her jest was followed with a bout of awkward laughter by her, and staring at her feet. "I- never mind, it's-" Astrid stopped when she was suddenly overshadowed and Cullen was now standing very close to her, "nothing."

"Look whose stuttering now," he played, which brought a smile to the mages lips. And then suddenly tears. Astrid stared at the Templar Order crest stitched into his tunic as the teardrops spilled down her cheeks, leaving the mage quivering as she boldly stepped into Cullen, grabbing onto his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. This caught him by surprise as she beat his chest feebly with one fist and clutched with the other, her tears hot as they soaked through the cloth.

Cullen reached to pull back her hood, her red hair falling about her shoulders as it was freed, and then he used his free hand to gently tip her face up at him. Even with the bruises, Astrid was still beautiful, the very woman he had fallen in-love with before he himself had realized. He held her face with both hands, ever careful as he wiped her tears away with his cold thumbs, and she leaned into his palms, covering one hand with her own. "I could hear you," she whispered, her voice vibrating against his palm, "_I love you_." Astrid wrapped her arms about his waist, trying to absorb his warmth into her. "_Always have_," she continued, "_and probably always will_, you said."

"I thought I'd lost you," Cullen uttered, loosening his hug on her to look upon her face again, "but my feelings haven't changed."

However the mage shook her head and closed her eyes, "Don't you understand Cullen, this has to be the end." The truth of her trembling words hurt and Cullen only held her closer, but he knew no matter what he said, she was right. A mage and a templar could never be together. They could try and perhaps they could deceive everyone for a little while, but it would never be forever. So he held her for what he knew could be the last time, only moving when Astrid spoke again, "So kiss me...one last time." Cullen bowed his head so their lips could meet, hers wavering as he covered her mouth with his. It was an immediate reminder of their first kiss in the chapel, so the Templar held her tighter as the memories flooded back, because in the morning that's all he'd have.


	26. Sweet Dreams

**So I have my official check-list of what's to occur in the final chapters of this story, and it'll either be ending by chapter 30 or 32, depends on how I go about with the details. What I can say is that I am very excited for the conclusion to this part of the Astrid/Cullen story, I'm also including a reason for one of the various epilogues for Cullen in the original game :) The only issue I have now is how to bridge to the sequel? I can A) have a detailed epilogue, B) a mini-series/short story, or C) just jump into the sequel after the ending with some surprises? I'm more leaning towards the third option, with that I can include flash-backs within the sequel...but let me know what you guys think first. Lastly, if anyone has any sequel title ideas I'd love to hear them, as of now I have none :| Anyhow, enjoy, fav, review, and thanks again to all you guys :D**

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><p>XXVI. SWEET DREAMS<p>

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><p>It was snowing. A delicacy Astrid had only experienced through an open window from within the circle, yet there she was lying on the ground, few blades of grass poking out from beneath the blanket of snow. She batted her eyes open from what felt like an eternal slumber, the tips of her lashes heavy with ice as she stared into the white sky. The snow was falling almost in slow-motion as the mage grew more weary of her surroundings, a vast bleakness of nothingness. Astrid inhaled and gasped as the frigid cold seeped into her skin, snowflakes melting as they touched her face. Even with all she has lost, the scarred magess had never felt so alone, so lifeless. Astrid closed her eyes to shake the feeling, but was disturbed by a familiar voice.<p>

"_I'll be back for it...I promise." _

She frantically opened her eyes again to the blinding of falling snow, staggered to find herself now standing. The voiced echoed, ricocheting off the emptiness around her. Astrid spun around trying to catch the speaker, but the voice would only linger for a second before disappearing in the flurry of snowflakes. Her breathing grew rigid, puffs of fog forming through each forced exhale as she grew anxious. "You're my best friend Astrid..." the redhead fell motionless and held her breath, there was no mistaking that voice. Astrid hesitantly turned to look over her shoulder, her heart pounding painfully in her aching chest.

Myrah Surana stood there, that same elfish smile she always had in her curled lips. In that moment, it felt like she had never left the Circle to join the Grey Wardens, never helped that damn mage Jowan. Astrid tried to step towards her, but her feet felt heavy, and she barely budged. The elf laughed, musical and quirky as she had always remembered it to be. "I'll be back for it..." her best friend repeated, her smile widening, "I promise." As the last of her words left her full lips, blood came pouring down her face from the top of her head. Still smiling, the healthy image of Myrah was becoming that of a corpse, as more wounds appeared across the elf's body and blood continued to pool at her feet. Astrid gasped, but that was all she could do. No scream would vibrate through her throat, no blizzard could make her budge from where she stood, and tears only froze immediately against her pallid cheeks.

"_Don't you care about us?"_

The elf's image was whisked away in a wind of smoke and Astrid turned to find another mage staring back at her: Anders. Now standing in the blood that poured from Myrah's obscure and sudden wounds, the mage was reluctant to face another surprise. Anders was just as she had last seen him, the night before he escaped; blond hair tied back, deep blue eyes baring into her very being. More tears froze on her face as she discerned that hopeful smile of his that he had given her their last moments together. "Come away with me," he said, just as he had that terrible night, "Don't you care about us?" Astrid wanted to shut her eyes as he too was becoming a bloody corpse, his gore mixing with Myrah's, but she could not look away.

"_Astrid."_

The silence following the sound of her name was haunting. She had suddenly gone numb, like every emotion had been ripped from existance. Astrid turned to face what she hoped was her last mirage. Anders had disappeared in the same fashion as Myrah, and in his place was a Templar. Cullen's shy grin was almost a faded memory, he hadn't look at her with that smile in what felt like forever, but as soon as it was there it was gone. The Templar's expression fell sullen, "You know I'd never hurt you." She couldn't bring herself to believe his words. "It'll be alright, I promise." And with that said, Astrid felt suddenly dead.

Every pain she had felt those weeks under the control of the blood mages returned, burning just beneath the skin as she relived the terror. The beating, the slicing, the raping; it wasn't alright. Myrah never came back. Anders abandoned her. And Cullen, he failed to save her. Astrid was suddenly enflamed with rage, the blood at her feet almost soothing, calling to her...

Astrid blinked once and was awake. It was dark and the candles around her had burned out, but a quick glance around, and she recognized the towering bookshelves of the central library. However, there was no sigh of relief. That dream...that nightmare has been an everyday affair for nearly two months now, and they only continued to grow worse. Even more disturbing was the lingering emotion of rage after each dream, the buzzing of her senses as the blood ran through her toes. Astrid could hear the whispering again, so enticing, so arousing as the voice lingered softly against her ear. A murmur the mage has been able to hear since her capture, and it was growing louder with each passing day.

Suddenly there was a shriek and a clatter of books. Astrid jumped to her feet, and was relieved as a wisp of light appeared at the end of her table. "You scared me, I- I had no idea someone was still down here," said the apprentice, whom was shakily trying to balance his handful of books while trying to catch his breath, "And you were just sitting there with the most scariest stare." The mage wanted to laugh as she ran her hand back through her hair, glad the distraction had brought an end to the voices. She looked up at the young man, his copper hair illuminated by his spell, and his youthful appearance a reminder of the good days of an apprentice.

"I'm terribly sorry," Astrid smiled, looking down to see the book she had with her opened on the table was the one she had stolen from the basement. Worried, the mage quickly flipped it closed and continued to beam at the apprentice. "You're Finn...right?"

The apprentice was surprised as he finally settled his books on the table and began lighting the candles around them with his magic, a pang of resentment ran through her. "You- you know who I am?" he excitedly responded. Astrid nodded and stepped away from the candlelight, even after two months she wasn't comfortable with other seeing her scars or being alone with anyone. "I know you, you're Astrid," Finn went on to say, "You and Myrah have stood up for me when the others called me Flora." It was true, Finn was much younger than them when they were apprentices and his interestingly long name had always had the others teasing him, but Astrid and Myrah were always one to try and dissolve bullying within the apprentices. "It was very sad when she left, but I'm sure it was hardest for you-"

"What do we have here?" Finn yelped again and Astrid's cheery smile fled from her face. A Templar, Ser Mathias stood with a smirk on the brink of exposure, his dark gaze staring through the apprentice and meeting the mage's instead. "An apprentice, and a mage after curfew..." he leered through the silence, his heavy steps coming around the table and towards Astrid, who snatched her book from the table and tucked it against her chest. "Especially you Miss Amell," he cooed as he towered over her, "If I recall, we have a special curfew for you." Mathias did little to hide his smirk now that he was within inches from Astrid, giving her presence the once over as his smirk grew more confident. "As go our orders, I must immediately escort you to your room my lady."

"I have special permission to be here Ser-" Finn muttered as the Templar turned to him, smiling almost pleased that he'd be alone with the mage.

"Very well," Ser Mathias responded to the apprentice before returning his attention to the woman behind him, "After you." Astrid was slow to move past Mathias, pausing for a second when he seemingly forced her to brush past him. She made sure to smile at Finn to reassure him that all was alright, even though she wasn't so sure it would be.

Astrid lead the Templar away from that part of the library, heading towards the stairway that would take her to the senior mage quarters. This man was different from when she last spoke to him, a very stoic broody type if she was to describe him, but the Mathias following closely behind her was arrogant, smug. She curiously took a gander over her shoulder, caught by a devious smirk across the Templar's face, but she could bring herself to look away. Something was wrong. "You're looking better," he said, trying to make conversation as they reached the top step of the stairway, "Not to say you weren't an alluring sight before...but after all you've been through." The pace in Astrid's step dawdled, and her heart beat feverishly as Ser Mathias went on, "Cullen is just so torn up over what...they did to you."

"This is my room-" Astrid tried to interject but before she could even pry the door open, Ser Mathias was holding it shut with his hand and leaning closely behind her. The mage panicky turned to find herself trapped between his arms. "I- I should go to bed," she trembled as his lingering gaze was looking over her again.

"He promised to protect you, yet he broke that promise..." The Templar inquired, not budging to let her be. "And look at you now..." Mathias tsked at her and even braved to stroke her cheek with his knuckles, "They still got to you, took everything you have and...we've left you with only one option now." Astrid was shaking, beyond terrified, but with the struggle of her magic there was little she could do as the Templar continued to smirk at her. He leaned towards her, but she turned away, surprised when he chuckled and reached to open the door for her. She quickly slipped away from him and through the door as they stared at one another.

She knew the truth now, and he knew she did too. "Good night," he sniggered, and to confirm the mage's suspicions, his eyes flashed yellow and a smokey purple veil appeared over the Templar in the form of horns. "Astrid," he finished as he closed the door, his demonic voice leaving the mage speechless as the door closed heavily on her and locked.


	27. Demon's Advocate

**So this is probably the longest chapter I've written in a while, and hopefully the next few will be about the same length as well. I can't believe this story is coming to an end, and it had almost been a year since I started it, but I am working hard on the sequel and I hope it'll live up to the success of this one. Alright, so the next few chapters should help answer any questions and bring everything full circle. One last thing, I have an amazing beta now and she is working hard to fix all my errors. So this chapter is for ObsessionistXO and her quick work to help me get this chapter up. Read, review if you'd like, enjoy!**

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><p>XXVII. DEMON'S ADVOCATE<p>

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><p>Their final kiss had been but a gentle tremble for Astrid, but Cullen was far from just letting her get away with a light smooch. The Templar tilted her face back up at him when she bowed her head to hide the hot tears that began again to lightly slide down her face. At first he stared, angry, yet tranquil as he used a calloused thumb to spread a stray tear across her lips. Astrid's lips parted at his touch, and Cullen immediately covered her mouth with his. He could taste the Mage's salty tears as he licked her lips and continued on to stroke her tongue with his own, using his free hand to pull her body into his. Her curves met the contour of Cullen's built, their bodies closer, but not close enough. The Templar drew his fingers down along her spine, feeling her quiver against his body and in his mouth. He had kissed her before, but not as boldly as he did now; keeping her mouth propped open with his thumb as he teased her mouth with his tongue, sucking and kissing her lips.<p>

Cullen opened his eyes, disappointed to know it was still yet a memory. He glanced down to see he was still in the middle of removing his armor. The Templar sighed and went about continuing the task at hand, unable to shake the memory that had been plaguing him for two months now. His armor fell in a loud pile at his feet, and he was relieved to be free of the extra weight as he fell into his bed. He welcomed sleep, despite expecting another restless night, but a lusty imagining of Astrid was beckoning him along. However, just as his eyes closed and the feeling of himself slip into the embrace of his dream Mage, there was three heavy thuds at his chamber door.

The Templar rose from his bed and away from what would have been a hot and bothering dream. As he left to answer the knock, Cullen imagined the reluctant tug of his dream mage as his arm swept away from her grasp, how she leaned back against his feather pillow, and her body bare save for the quilt resting alluringly low on her hips. This was how it had been since he last touched Astrid, long explicit dreams of what he would no longer have, nights where he could feel her tingly touch enflaming his body, but he would only have his own to satisfy his excitement. Cullen wavered in the next step, stopping to catch a sheer glimpse of the nude dame in his bed, but in a blink of an eye she was gone. There was more thumping at his door, drawing the Templar to the door instead of his aching groin.

He pulled back the lock and pried the old door open, forced to bite his tongue upon recognizing the visitor. Ser Mathias was a sight for sore eyes when Cullen had pulled the door further open, keeping the iron handle of the door firmly in his grasp. A friendship that was once comradely bantering and joking had become distant, almost untrusting after the events with the blood mages. Sure the younger Templar had made the effort to rekindle their brotherliness, but Cullen was hesitant after Mathias' behavior only became more erratic. "It's late Mathias," Cullen begrudgingly greeted, "What do you want?" He would rather be sexually frustrated with an imaginary lover than converse with this man.

"I know I've been a jerk," Mathias started, a nervous air in how he stood and spoke in the doorway, "but I guess I was consumed with jealousy, Maker knows I wanted what you had with Astrid." Cullen's jaw tightened, they had barely mentioned the affair since the young Templar had revealed to him he knew about the fateful night in the chapel. "When Myrah ended things...she didn't know about the two of you," he continued, his voice rung with regret, "but after I saw you in the chapel, I felt we could make it too...but then she ended it." That feeling was all too familiar, and for once, Cullen felt empathetic towards his fellow Templar.

"Well you'll be glad to know Astrid has moved on." It pained him to say that out loud, but it was the bitter truth.

Mathias looked surprised but only briefly, "Strange considering she asked me to come bring you to her." Cullen froze in place. She had firmly pushed him away before their passionate kiss could progress into further touches, and since then he'd been left with an unbearable ache for her. However, she had made it quite clear it would have to end, so why would she seek him out now? And why would she send Mathias of all people? As if to pick-up on Cullen's uncertainty, the Templar made to explain, "I ran into her during my round, asked if I'd find you and bring you to where she wants to meet you." He was still unsure to trust Mathias until what he had said next, "Something about what happened in the basement, whatever that means."

"Where does she wish to meet me?" Cullen inquired, trying his best to hide the misgiving in his voice as he pulled back his boots on and reached for his sword.

"The Harrowing Chamber," Mathias answered immediately, "Don't worry, that's my post for the night, and you won't get caught...or interrupted."

There was the obvious hint of something more than a friendly chat with Astrid, which only made Cullen move quicker to exit into the corridor and close his chamber door behind him. Mathias made to lead him to the end of the hallway, where they'd take the stairs into the room before the actual chamber. He twitched with anxiety, ignoring that suspicious feeling in his gut as they stepped quietly along the stone. Even if this was another conversation about the two of them being over, Cullen didn't care, as long as he got to see her and hear her voice. He caught himself smiling, but a voice in the back of his head continued to tell him something was awfully wrong. The Templar stopped at the base of a set of stairs, finding himself just a dozen steps from the Harrowing Chamber.

If he thought hard enough and remembered that night in the repository, he had been okay with ending things as they were. He was okay with one more kiss goodbye. In that moment, they had found a proper conclusion to what was a complicated and clumsy relationship that had nearly got them both killed. So why now did his heart race and breath hitch as he climbed the steps to see her? Cullen had left the Circle's basement satisfied and yet here he was anticipating her presence, the same confusing feelings he had the night after their first encounter. The Templar reached for his sword subconsciously, he shouldn't need it to meet with Astrid, but was glad his Templar instinct reminded him to grab it.

"She's inside," Mathias directed as he opened the heavy set door, nudging towards the already lit chamber. Cullen at once began to reminiscence as he walked into the glowing chamber, each footstep echoing back and fourth about the high ceiling. The screams, the bloodshed, he had heard it all from just outside where he had been held captive and forced to watch. He reached the center of the Harrowing Chamber, suddenly cold as a long chill ran up the length of his spine.

The Templar should have trusted his intuition. The entrance into the chamber crept open and slammed loudly as someone entered, but he couldn't tell whom it was. Cullen dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword, sweat beading about his brow as the footsteps grew closer until Mathias had emerged from the shadows, his own blade drawn and pointed at him. "Bastard," the Templar growled at the traitor, "What are you trying to do Mathias?" He cried out loud enough that his voice ricocheted across the room, but instead of a response from his former friend, Cullen was met with a cackle of laughter in the dark. Cullen immediately searched the dark for the extra voices surrounding him, but it proved only to be a distraction, for the Templar only had seconds to free his sword before Mathias was attacking him.

Cullen couldn't manage to block him, so he rolled away from the attack, Mathias' blade catching his arm and drawing blood. In that instant, the Templar felt his strength drain from his sword arm despite it only being a flesh wound. He stood up wielding his sword with both hands as Mathias came at him once more; the Templar kneed Cullen in the gut and smacked away his sword. As he dropped to his knees, he felt the blade a second time slice into his shoulder and the same uncomfortable feeling of being weakened. Mathias laughed from above him, Cullen's blood dripping from the edge of his sword, "Your making this awfully easy Templar."

"Wh- what?" Cullen whimpered, trying to catch his breath. He stretched his neck to glare at Mathias, but was repulsed to find that it wasn't just Mathias, but a demon too. His breathing became more labored from the shock, his former comrade now a host for whatever abomination had taken his body. He could see the yellow irises of the demon's eyes piercing into him through the dark, horns curled back from his brow in a purple mist that continuously moved in a fluid motion.

The demon spoke, no longer faking the voice of Mathias as he addressed whom ever was waiting within the black shadows. "What should we do with him..." it asked coyly, "I did like to watch it squirm when we dangled that whore in front of him."

Cullen made to lunge at him but fell short, he had no strength to move, and nearly all the feeling through his limbs had become numb. "You bastard," was all he could spat through gritted teeth as he doubled over in pain from the struggle, gasping as his fresh wounds begin to burn.

Possessed Mathias cackled in terrifying laughter and Cullen knew he was trapped once again, fooled again by a bloody demon. "Slay him," came a voice from behind him, but the Templar was in far too much pain to face the demon's companion, "then we'll fetch the bitch and force her to watch him bleed out...and then you can do what you please with her."

The demon chuckled and groaned, "Mmm...The things I'll do to her this time." Things suddenly became worst for Cullen, not only was his friend possessed by a demon, but it was the same abomination that tortured and raped Astrid. He was sick to the pit of his stomach, but the Templar could not move a muscle. It was painful to be stuck kneeling before the demon, whom was still smugly looking down on Cullen. "Don't worry," the demon spoke loudly as he raised his sword above him, "I'll leave your heart beating just enough to watch her beg for mercy."

The sword glinted in the magical lighting of the chamber, Cullen closed his eyes and curled his fingers against the stone to brace himself for the painful blow, but nothing happened. He could hear hissing and grunting from where the demon stood, looking up he watched as the demon struggled with running the blade through Cullen's chest or plunging it into the ground. "I...I refuse..." the demon was facing a rude awakening as Mathias' voice escaped in quick words, gasping and hissing as the internal scuffle continued between the Templar and the abomination. Finally the sword flung from his hand and Cullen breathed a sigh of relief, Mathias was proving to be winning the battle. The possessed Templar back peddled away from him, holding his head and thrashing back and fourth, "No!"

There was a bright flash, followed by Mathias collapsing to his knees and wheezing, as if taking his first breath. He immediately began to vomit, the freedom of possession a very nauseating experience for the young Templar. Mathias wiped his mouth with his armored forearm, looking at a paralyzed Cullen and then to where his sword had scattered across the chamber. Laughing returned to reverberating against the walls and both Templars could see the purple haze of the demon re-manifesting, with only one free to move about, Mathias quickly shuffled onto his feet. His legs felt like rubber as he walked towards his weapon, the length of his possession depriving him of such a simple task; it eventually became too much and he fell again just inches from the blade. He reached from where he was sprawled on the floor, the gleam of metal teasing him as his muscles refused to stretch, but it would be too late. Mathias cried out in pain as his leg was impaled into the floor.

"You disappoint me Envy," came the second voice that had been lingering in the shadows, now revealed to be the mage holding the sword skewered through Mathias calf. She was unfamiliar upon first glance, but Cullen was sure he had seen her prior to now. The mage walked around to where Mathias' head laid, using her foot to force him to look up at her, "You let this human push you aside so easily." Mathias groaned when she went back to the sword and wiggled it within the wound, blood continuing to pour in little red rivers. She knelt at his blood and dipped two fingers into the hot liquid, bringing it hungrily to her lips before sauntering away. The puddle of blood began to boil then, moving across the floor in crimson beads after the magess, before evaporating into the air around her. She was still sucking on her fingers as she circled around Cullen, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing more blood from his stinging wound.

"I did no such thing mage," came the infernal tongue of the demon once possessing Mathias, "I can enter him again if I so desire to." The demon, Envy, passed between the Templars leaving scorched foot steps in the flooring as he approached the blood mage, now lapping at Cullen's blood on her thumb. Envy snatched the mage's wrist and forced her to meet his searing gaze, "Know your place Zelda."

Zelda smirked and ripped her wrist from his sharp fingers, "Well then, what do you intend to do now that you've abandoned the plan?" Her eyes narrowed at each of the Templars, hauntingly dark beneath the ebony cowl she wore over her dark curls. She impatiently planted a hand on her hip and leaned forward to continue poking at Cullen's bleeding shoulder, purring as the blood stain grew larger with the dig of her nails against the ripped skin.

"Since the human proved so easy to trick, perhaps I should enthral him," sneered the demon, smiling devilishly at the fear flickering in Cullen's eyes. Envy was suddenly at his side, leering at the weak Templar, "Make him watch _and feel_ as I take that little whore over and over, night after night, until the very sight of you has her hanging from a rope." It was hard to listen to the demon's taunt, what he'd do with possessing Cullen's body, hiding behind his image to force the mage on her hands and knees, to betray the trust and love they had. Cullen cried out in pain as Envy laughed again, he was already beginning to take over the Templar's thoughts, trying to weaken his morale and force himself inside. It was almost like being raped himself.

"Hmm, perhaps," Zelda contemplated, "but that still leaves us with the other Templar." Cullen saw the panic cross Mathias' eyes as both the demon and blood mage cast their evil gaze at him, and with a sword still lodged in his leg there was no where for him to crawl away. Zelda waved her hand as if to dismiss the conflict, "I don't care whose body you chose to inhabit, just as long as that Templar whore gets what she deserves-"

"Why not just possess the whore then." Astrid was shaking where she stood behind Mathias, fists curled into the skirt of her robes as she fixated her gaze at the blood mage. Cullen could tell that if she dared take a step further she'd fall over, that it had taken an incredible tole on her to reach the Harrowing Chamber.

The blood mage continued to dig her nails into the Templar's wound, licking her lips at the sound of his agony, amused as Astrid trembled from the sounds of his pain. Zelda kicked Cullen's arm, forcing his already weak and unbalanced limbs to collapse as he fell face down into the ground. She slowly paraded towards the redhead, sneering in her face, "So you managed to get past the ward, even in your fragile condition." The blood mage grabbed Astrid by the chin, and unable to exert anymore, she did little to resist as Zelda forced her to stare back at her. "Does the First Enchanter's bitch need a little help..." she teased, taking her bloody fingers and painting Astrid's lips red with Cullen's blood. "All you need is a little taste-" Astrid immediately spit in her face, and watched Zelda's face twist hideously.

Envy was laughing from behind at the mage's insult, "That would be twice now wouldn't it Zelda?" Astrid felt her blood run cold, and like the Templars, she fell motionless where she was standing. The blood mage angrily shoved her face aside and walked away, but that did little to phase the young mage as she met the yellow gaze of the demon. Envy was the envision of a masculine desire demon, same cold violet skin, golden possessive eyes, long fiery horns that curled back from his brow, but in the case of desire demons, he had taken to be an embodiment of Cullen. He was the very doppelgänger that had consumed her nightmares, violated both her physically and mentally, in the chapel and every night since. Astrid was haunted by the memory of his violent attacks on her, but was nearly scared to death to be in is presence again. "You offer yourself mage...?"

Astrid swallowed back the tears, "I'll do everything you ask...just let them go." Envy was gone in a wisp of smoke and reappeared behind the magess, breathing along her neck as she quivered under his touch. He left her again, Astrid's knees buckled and she fell onto her hands in short of breath. The demon knelt in front of her and squeezed her face with one hand; Envy licked her lips with his long black tongue.

"Mmm," he moaned, "How I've missed how delicious your fear is." Tears uncontrollably began to fall down her face and over his fingers, which only made the demon moan again, "How much you arouse me when you cry." Envy turned her face from one side to the other, licking up her salty tears with a single stroke of his elongated tongue. The demon went on to pull back her hair from her shoulder, tugging the sleeve of her robe down her arm, and smiling widely at what he saw. "I was hoping they'd leave scars," Astrid tried to wiggle free, but it was too late. Envy leaned into crook of her neck and shoulder, sinking his teeth into the scar of his previous bite mark and made sure to draw blood. The mage let out an agonizing raspy cry, trying to hold back the scream settled in her throat. Cullen's doppelgänger had her warm blood running down the corner of his mouth and gave her a toothy grin, "Everything I ask?" He was inquiring again of what she had offered herself for the spared lives of Cullen and Mathias. Astrid nodded in sharp jerks as his grip lowered to her neck. The demon ripped open her robe and smirked darkly, "I'm going to make you regret this." Astrid gasped at his response and immediately Envy covered her mouth with his, forcing his tongue in her mouth, and giving her a taste of her own blood.

The Templar watched in horror, but there was nothing he could do.


	28. Abomination

**Soooo...thanks to ridiculous writer's block and my own busy schedule, and that these chapter got accidentally deleted when I was almost done with, I was finally able to finish it. I'm not sure anyone is reading this anymore, but I am going to finish it. It's a story with characters I love and I'm going to see it to the end, which will be only a couple chapters more. Please tell me what you think, I'm kind of in the hate/love relationship with this chapter. May or may not come back to it to edit some things, but for now, Enjoy!**

**Thank you, xBlackStars for the beta-ing!**

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><p>XXVIII. ABOMINATION<p>

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><p>Suddenly Astrid could breathe. Hands trembling as hot black ichor poured over her white knuckled grip, the blade of her sword plunged into the belly of the beast. Envy's domain in the chamber had shattered, his plans for the magess decaying as the Fade called for him. A sneer thick with malice crossed his violet features, eyes blazing as he chuckled, a throaty laugh that vibrated through the sword. The shaking redhead struggled as he encircled her throat with his taloned hands, thrusting himself further along the blade, smirking as he did so. "Well played mage," he choked, blood splattering across her, from his words. Astrid remained paralyzed. In a matter of seconds, she had ripped the sword from the Templar's leg and forced the weapon forward, severing the demon's power, and hopefully Zelda's as well.<p>

Envy forced her face to the side, where he licked her again across the cheek, cold brow pressed against her temple. "But you did not kill me," he cooed softly against her earlobe, catching the faintest gasp from her bleeding lips. "I will be waiting for when we can play again, just remember..." The demon was beginning to fade, body translucent as his time was nearing. "I'll always be with you," he breathed into her ear, "inside you." Astrid forced herself to look away, the demon laughing coldly as his wound carried him away, the feeling of his hands around her neck left like a promise. He'd be back.

The sword was suddenly heavy in her hands and hit the ground with a clang, leaving her panting.

"Bravo," Zelda mocked, clapping deftly from across the chamber, smirking with hatred. "You've managed to slay my demon, but you're still a fool if you think you can defeat me now." The witch stepped away from Cullen, back towards Astrid, who was now gasping for air.

It pained Cullen as he watched her; useless from where he was sprawled on knees and elbows. Astrid lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, eyes red from crying and the pain, but her eyes never stayed still. The wounded magess was passing her gaze from him to the floor and back, before tilting her head towards Zelda. "Why did you choose me for your tormenting?" the breathless redhead pondered aloud, giving the Templar a final message with her eyes before Zelda had completely blocked her view. "I know it was you who tempted and showed Jowan blood magic," Astrid murmured, feeling the witch's yellow eyes stare daggers into her, "And it was also you who corrupted Uldred, turning him into an abomination against his will-"

Zelda slapped her nemesis with curled fingers, leaving thin trails of blood along her already bruised face. Astrid hissed and fell onto her hands, Mathias' sword slipping from her grasp. "Uldred," the blood mage hissed, "would have undone us if I didn't take matters into my own hand. After Ostagar, he was weak and his mind weaker, the perfect opportunity for the start of a mage insurgence- Our freedom from the damnable Templars!" She slapped Astrid again and kicked her backwards, "I would have been freed of this tower by now if it wasn't for you!"

Cullen observed in terror as the blood mage gave her revelation to Astrid, leaving him in a fog of anger, the feeling in his hands returned as they curled into fists. Then it occurred to him what the injured mage was trying to relay. The Templar moved his eyes towards his abandoned sword, just arm's length away from him, and far from Zelda's range of power, Cullen could begin to feel his strength returning. The dark sorceress was continuing her abuse of Astrid, a distraction he then realized as he crawled towards his blade. He noticed Mathias was unconscious, or at least pretending to be. If they did not end this madness soon, he would surely die. The hilt of his blade was smeared in blood, but the Templar ignored it as his calloused hand tightened around it. Cullen began to build up his mental resistance, gathering himself onto trembling legs, but he could feel his strength finally returning to him.

"Zelda!" a voice yelled from the shadows. _There are others?_ Cullen pondered. He forced himself to stand as the witch turned to him, grinding her teeth.

"Kill him!" she demanded as her followers emerged from the darkness. Four more blood mages came fourth, each shrouded in their own black cowl, without staffs but already beginning to run stained blades along their skin. Cullen staggered, searching for his footing before wielding his sword with both hands. He waited, holding his breath, for the first mage to attack, side glancing as Zelda continued to stew in her anger. The blood mage frowned as the others took their time, almost hesitant as they neared the armed Templar. "Kill him now-"

The Harrowing Chamber suddenly lit up and everyone in the room was knocked to the floor, including Cullen, who was shielding his eyes as the room awoke with shouting. He listened to the blood mages struggles, as one by one was dragged across the floor. They dug their fingers into the grooves of stone, nails chipping and prying off as all efforts to stop this unseen force was futile. A shriek tore through the others as the first of the mages met their demise, the odour of copper intensified as another was slain. Cullen could only see spots as he tried to focus his gaze, curious to the chaos that was now taking place before him. When finally his sight returned, the Templar was awe struck as something glinted and another mage was suddenly headless. The chamber was filling with blood and uneasy feelings swept over Cullen, magic he had never encountered before, old magic. "Impossible!" he heard, as it suddenly grew silent, eerily lifeless.

"You- how- how did you do this?" Zelda was hysterical, crawling backwards with everything she could muster, but nothing was stopping her from being dragged back towards the source of power. "You should be dead, I am supposed to kill you!" disbelief rattled in the witch's voice, "I am stronger than you!"

The Templar stilled as he watched on, just as shocked as the blood mage herself.

"Blood magic doesn't make you stronger Zelda." Astrid had risen, drenching in crimson gore from the slaughtered, and holding her sword as if it were as light as a feather. "It turns you into a beacon for demons, slowing corrupting you until you're merely a shell of a human being." She stepped closer to the witch, standing over her with heavy-lidded eyes, dark circles leaving her with a haunted look. "Making you an abomination, a monster…" Twisting the hilt between her shaking hands, Astrid levelled it towards Zelda, "Something that needs be slain."

Astrid swung and the blade hacked into the blood mage's shoulder, Zelda screaming. Ripping her sword free, she sliced just as swiftly into the side of her head, cutting into Zelda's unhinged jaw, silencing her. Cullen saw the tremble run through Astrid's body, lip quivering as she swung a third time and then a fourth, nearly cleaving Zelda's head from her shoulders. The Templar sprang to his feet, sword abandoned again, and rushed to the redhead's side, stopping her wrists as she began recklessly chop at the now disfigured corpse. Astrid resisted him at first, severing the side of Zelda's face before Cullen wrestled her to the ground. The broken mage released her grip on the sword and listened as it splattered in the blood, looking down to see her hands were stained red. Cullen took her hands away from sight and cradled her against him; he would not lose her to madness. Not again. She relaxed into him, gasping for breath again before turning herself within his arms, cheek pressed against his shoulder. He held her closer, tighter; memories flooding back as he waited for the fear to pass. His fear. What had that been? What magic was that?

Cullen exhaled as he could hear the clinking of armor rush towards the Harrowing Chambers, calls of orders as the Templars approached the room. He continued to hold Astrid, even as the door was kicked down in splinters, any ward gone now that Zelda was dead. Torches brightened the room, giving away the morbid details of what transpired. Gregoir stepped through the threshold, followed by Irving, both paused by the scene before them. "Quick, fetch the healers immediately!" the Knight-Commander ordered as a few of the knights knelt beside the still unconscious Mathias. The torchlight finally fell upon Cullen, and the First Enchanter inhaled sharply at the sight of Astrid. "Cullen?" Gregoir muttered, still in a state of shock.

"She's hurt," Cullen told the First Enchanter, ignoring how bad all of this looked. "She needs help."

As if on cue, a handful of the healers flooded into the room, all still in their nightgowns. A couple knights began to carry Mathias from the chamber, while some mages followed, already beginning to use their healing spells. A couple healers wandered towards Irving, all gasping as they recognized Astrid. "Please take her to the infirmary with Ser Mathias, Finn, can you began the healing process with her immediately?" The mage awkwardly nodded, gazing down at the mage he'd been in the library with only hours prior. They healers reached to remove Astrid from Cullen's arm, but he refused, keeping her closer. "Please Ser Cullen," Irving pleaded, "you've already protected her enough." He looked down at the magess in his arms, Astrid faintly smiling as she curled her fingers within the hand that held hers. Reluctantly he allowed the mages to take her, holding her hand until the very last second.

"What happened here?" The Knight-Commander soon demanded of Cullen.

She killed them, all of them, and they could take her away for that. Away to Aeonar. He couldn't allow that.

"I killed them all."

_Beta-ed by: xBlackStars_ – **previously ObsessionistXO**


	29. Consequences

**I just love it when my muse returns. Finally after two years, this chapter of Cullen and Amell's love story will be coming to a close. I think there will be two more chapters, including an epilogue, and A Dangerous Thing will be finished. But no worried, to anyone who still reads this and enjoys the story, there will be a sequel that I am currently in the process of planning out. Just no title yet, and I have no clue what to call the next one :| Anyhow, this chapter is both important and a filler in my opinion. I promise the next chapter will be more interesting for various reasons. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!**

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><p>XXIX. CONSEQUENCES<p>

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><p>In a month's time, the terror that had taken place in the Harrowing Chamber was but a whisper as both mages and templars prepared for the coming storm. The Blight. With war on everyone's mind, blood mages and demons slipped into the past, as the mages perfected their spells and the templars strengthened their swing. At last it would appear the Circle Tower had return to a semblance of normalcy, at least for most. Both Cullen and Mathias were subjected to various tests by the First Enchanter, under the careful observation of their Knight-Commander; and after a few days, both were deemed not to be possessed. However, the price for confessing to the slaughter he didn't commit did not fall on deaf ears, and after a fortnight, Greagoir had received word from the Grand Cleric.<p>

Cullen was to be escorted from the tower, to a chantry in Greenfell. Only temporary according to Greagoir, until the Grand-Cleric and the Seekers had completed their investigation of the event. But the Templar did not believe him. "I'm sorry Cullen," he had said, the sympathy honest, "but you must understand the Chantry is suspicious of your relationship with the mage, it is better this way."

"I- I understand," he answered. The Templar could scarcely believe their romance remained a secret this long, if that was what one called lust driven liaisons. It had dawned on Cullen that he himself had whispered those three forbidden words to Astrid when she was on the brink of death, but the mage herself had all but try to drive him away. Perhaps their affair was even a pawn in the blood mage's game.

Deep within his thoughts, the stuttering Templar hadn't realized that the Knight-Commander was still speaking to him, "Cullen!" His head turned back to Greagoir from where he had been staring off into space, a deep frown on the older Templar's aging face. "Were you even listening to what I was saying?" Cullen shook his head, guilty, and his superior sighed in annoyance before sinking back into his chair. Greagoir massaged his forehead and pushed a letter in the Templar's direction, the seal already broken, but Cullen could still recognize the stamp pressed into ruby red wax. Kirkwall. "This arrived yesterday, since the Grand Cleric's letters take precedence over anything as of now, I hadn't opened it till this morning," the Knight-Commander was wording himself carefully.

"It inquires about me?" Cullen stated matter-of-factly, but it came out more of a question and Greagoir found himself nodding in answer.

"It would appear that your recent actions have impressed the Knight-Commander in Kirkwall."

The letter was an invitation, a promotion. As he read the handwriting in its entirety, the Templar could do little but just sit there, eyes re-reading the important details. Knight-Commander Meredith was praising him for suppressing the would be mage revolt, standing out amongst the others, his loyalty for both the Templars and the Chantry. She even mentioned sending a similar letter to the Grand Cleric, requesting that Cullen not be simply moved to Greenfell, but to be sent to Kirkwall to join her Templars. "Knight-Captain?" he recited, still in a state of shock from the Knight-Commander's proposal, "I-I've never considered becoming Knight-Captain before."

"I'll be honest, neither have I." Greagoir gave Cullen an encouraging smile, "I'm not entirely sure what Meredith may see in you, but she's quite impressed with what you had done." He stood again, pacing around the desk to stand by Cullen, "It won't be immediate, there are still training and trials you'll have to endure, and it won't be easy...but, I think it would be wise to consider the Knight-Commander's alternative to Greenfell. For both of you." A pang of anxiety swept through Cullen, hands tense as he wrinkled the letter with his stiffening grip; followed by another pang of reality. "Perhaps different paths, would be for the best."

Cullen left the Knight-Commander's office in a daze, he had two days to make a final decision, his fate hanging by a thread. He paused in the hallway, weighing the options. Leave behind the nightmares this damn tower has plagued him with, start anew in the Free Marches as Knight-Captain. No revengeful blood mages or demons named Envy. No mage to temp him into sin. The Templar felt his chest tighten. Could he abandon Astrid? Leaving her behind with no promise of returning after everything they had endured. He subconscious crumpled the letter in a tense fist. Could he sever that string of fate that led him to her?

_Astrid..._ He had yet to catch a glimpse of her since they took her away from him in the Harrowing Chamber, the ghost of a smile through the blood on her face still haunting. Cullen had only been told she had recovered from her injuries, some minor bruising and scratches, but he still wished to see her.

"I heard she accepted the First Enchanter's offer-" Cullen leaned against the wall, remaining casual as a pair of mages made their way down the passage.

"So she's an enchanter now?"

"No, Irving asked her to replace Leorah as Senior Enchanter! And you know, she was originally to be recruited by that Grey Warden that was here?"

The Templar remained secrete as the mages neared the end. "I'm happy she's here though you know, we can learn a lot from her. It's surprising that she wasn't an enchanter earlier-"

As the girls were no longer in earshot, Cullen found himself a little surprised.

"You didn't know, did you?"

Cullen turned to the voice, surprised to see a young man just a few years shy of an adult. It was the healer that had taken Astrid away, Finn. The young mage gingerly grinned at the Templar, clearly nervous. "Miss Amell is an incredible mage," he went on to mutter, "It was said that she was ready for the Harrowing several years before they called her to the chamber. Irving said it was a precious but dangerous thing to be so gifted with magic at a young age, she's been here since she was a baby- can you imagine how much she has had the chance to learn." The Templar was met with a cocktail of emotions, head spinning as he recalled that night weeks before her Harrowing. That calm collective look on her face, a side of her that had long shattered since then. Suddenly the mage was giving Cullen a worrying look and shaking his hands, "Please don't tell her I said anything-"

The templar placed a friendly hand on Finn's shoulder and smiled, "No worries. I won't speak a word of it." The mage fell calm again and Cullen decided to be on his way, but before he could disappear he turned back t the mage. "Thank you for helping her that night, it- it means the world to me."

He left the hallway then. Eager to find Astrid more than ever.

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><p>Astrid sat in silence. Her wounds had been closed, but not without leaving some physical scars. Painful haunting scars, that only reminded the mage she was merely a shell of her former self. Wavering gaze, she eyed the palm in her lap, a large scar in the shape of a disfigured star covered both sides of her hands; they were white and shiny thanks to the lyrium. The mage turned away in disgust, reminded of how they occurred. Subconsciously she touched her throat, feeling the cold throbbing grip of someone's hands about her neck. That feeling had never left her, and Astrid soon realized it never would. They weren't just Zelda's demons, but the mage had come to realize she had a couple demons of her own.<p>

She had been asked to stay in her room since leaving the infirmary, and had remained so since. She often thought of Cullen and how he faired out of the entire situation. Astrid knew the Templar had taken the blame for what she had done and could only hope he would understand the truth. The full extent of her abilities was no longer a secret. Years of pretending and praying to the Maker wasted. Astrid shook her head, red hair falling over her face, _Not a waste. _The mage had saved Cullen and Ser Mathias. She just had to tell herself she had done the right thing.

Fortunately the door to her chamber opened before the mage's thoughts could wander anymore than they had. Finn poked his head through the doorway, smiling, but nervously. "Enchanter Amell, how- how are you feeling?"

The magess scoffed and a coy grin came to her lips, "A mage without use of her magic barely meets the standards of an Enchanter." Astrid stood and crossed her room, leaning into the mirror of her vanity. Once the bruising had gone down, a brief pattern of spidery scars appeared on her left cheek, disappearing around the curve of her jaw. She quickly looked away from her reflection and back to Finn, "And you can call me Astrid."

Finn had ventured further into the chamber, eyes caught by a book left alone on a table in the room. The young mage flipped through the pages before holding the book in its entirety, oblivious as Astrid collected her cloak hanging from a chair and padded towards the door. "This book- its a Dalish tome!" She shifted to meet his gaze, and a flicker of fear fell across his face. "These are forbidden in the tower, how did you come across one?"

Astrid genuinely smiled, knowing she hadn't gotten it alone. "Tis a secret," she whispered and brought a finger to her lips, "Keep it if you like, I'm already finished with it." And with that said, she left the room to find another.


	30. Lost, Found

**So this originally was suppose to be the last chapter, but I was having so many feels writing it that I will have to split it. Which not only helps make these whole scene flow more naturally towards the ending, but allows you readers at least one more official chapter till it's done. Still no title for the sequel, so if anyone has suggestions, please do tell, I need all the help in the world right now. I do however have some spoils for the sequel :) My Hawke in the sequel is going to be a male Hawke, with the default name Garrett, because frankly I really like it. So with that said, Carver will be the sibling, but the sequel is going to start after the Deep Roads Expedition, meaning my Carver will become a Warden and will potentially be featured in another story I am planning... Hawke is going to be mostly a gentleman, but use all his sarcastic charm on Isabela, who is going to know Astrid quite well before the sequel takes place. Hopefully that little tid bit will encourage readers to continue to the sequel :) Before this gets boring and long, enjoy and do review if you like, I enjoy the feedback!**

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><p>XXX. LOST, FOUND<p>

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><p>"Cullen!"<p>

Ser Mathias had made a remarkable recovery and was lucky his leg was still of use. The young Templar still walked with a crutch the First Enchanter personally crafted for him, and each step he took was followed by a now painless limp. The Knight-Commander never did learn of him being possessed by a demon, and the secret only strengthened the Templars' friendship. As he approached, growing swifter each day, Cullen reached for Mathias's extended arm, "Good to see you back on your feet."

Mathias grinned and leaned on his crutch, "I can barely sit around now, with the Blight upon us." Cullen frowned and his friend jokingly punched him in the arm. "Don't give me that look, I've got a couple months to find my footing again, and we'll have each others back." His frown fell into a sad line, he would be leaving the Circle before they would answer the Warden's treaties. Seeing the grief on Cullen's face, Mathias quickly made to enlighten the mood, "I hear Astrid has become a Senior Enchanter, that's great news."

"Uhm- yes it is." Cullen had been spending the entire day searching for her, but every chamber was vacant, every hall lonely, and even the Chapel where she once found solace was currently holding a sermon.

"You haven't spoken with her yet, have you?" his fellow Templar regarded with concern, shifting his weight to his good leg. Cullen shook his head and inhaled sharply, the Knight-Commander's letter from Kirkwall was still crumpled in his hand. "Don't think to much of it. I'm sure she is busy herself with preparations for the Blight, seeing as Greagoir agreed to the mages joining the Warden." He had tried to comfort Cullen, but a new look of despair crossed his face with the news.

Cullen sighed, "There isn't much time till we will be far from reach then."

The afflicted Templar smiled knowingly and punched the glowering Templar again, "It is never too late." There was a deep hidden pain in what Mathias said, his broad smile trembling momentarily, "You look exhausted Cullen, perhaps you should rest." Cullen opened his mouth to protest, but Mathias remained vigilant, "If I see Astrid I will come to you immediately. Now go, before Hadley puts you to work, and then you won't have time to see her." Mathias was trying to push and shove him, but the Templar struggled with his bad leg until Cullen finally gave in. He forced a smile and padded away from the Main Hall, pausing for one final glance at the faces in the room.

The Templar yawned in a bore and re-read his letter as he made way up the steps. It was still hard to fathom the Knight-Commander's eagerness for him to join her side. "Knight-Captain..." Cullen whispered aloud, trying the title on his tongue. They would promote him for his lie, a deception in order to protect the mage he adored from eternal imprisonment, or worse, the Rite of Tranquillity. He cringed thinking of a docile soulless Astrid, the very fire and life obliterated from her very being. She was already so broken, as he himself was, and it would shatter Cullen into a million pieces to have her forget him. Even if forgetting him was for the best. The hallway to the Templar barracks felt awfully long as he proceeded to his room, mind now brewing with the choice he would have to make. Stay in Ferelden at Greenfell with hopes of returning to the Circle one day, or leave the Blight torn kingdom forever.

At last he reached his chamber, yawning, blinding staggering into the shadowed barrack. He flattened the letter on a table, the neatly written script now abstract as the wrinkles manipulated the lines. _Knight-Captain Cullen._ He said it to himself a few times in his head, trying to convince himself of its worth, but suddenly the candles on his bedside were alive with flames, quickly followed by the ornate sconces where dead torches began to blaze. Panicked, the Templar lunged for his sword, barely unsheathing the weapon as he whipped around. But where he thought to find a demon, was the very mage Cullen was searching for.

Astrid was blasé towards his sword pointed at her, smiling faintly where the white scars on her face slightly glittered in the firelight. "Funny isn't it," she remarked, crossing the room with ease from one object to another, until she stood in the shadow of where Cullen's armor hung. "It is always the last place you look, that you will find what you seek." The mage caressed the shiny Templar armor and a peculiar chill ran through Cullen as he watched her, sword lowered, but heart still racing. Astrid backed away from the armor and towards the center of the room, still looking over everything with curiosity, "I've never been in here before."

Cullen opened his mouth to correct her, but it hadn't been her that time, just a terrible nightmare. "No-," he muttered, "you haven't."

She smiled still, hugging herself, nervously avoiding his gaze. "They've made me Senior Enchanter," she announced plainly, forcing conversation.

"So I've heard," the Templar added, he'd heard the news thrice times today.

"Silly really," Astrid continued, "I've barely been a mage for a year, and now not only have I inherited such a title, I- I no longer have the power to be a mage." Torment drew from her words, the pain watering her eyes, and Cullen wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to move. She quickly shook her head, red hair falling into her face, "I didn't come here to tell you that." The mage met his gaze, "I came to tell you everything- the truth."

The Templar's jaw tightened and he forced himself to look away.

The new Enchanter silently choked and bit her lip. "I- I was abandoned here as a babe, recently delivered from the womb. I've been told, even as a tranquil newborn, I displayed incredible talent for magic, and as I grew, so did my abilities," Astrid glanced to see if Cullen was listening, but the Templar had turned around, back facing her and hands curled into fists. "I- I've always been a strong mage and no matter how hard I tried to blend in, I was always ridiculed and hated by the others," she was struggling to keep stoic, voice trembling the slightest, "I was always treated as a potential threat to the Circle, and eventually Irving personally tutored me, purposely delaying my growth behind the others.

"It was only when Myrah came to the Circle did I finally find a friend, someone who didn't hate me because they were either scared or envious of me. Even though, all along...I was envious of them." Astrid paused momentarily as she remembered, breathing deeply as the memories came to. "And then, there was you Cullen." He still didn't face her, couldn't face her. "I thought Irving was a mad man to think I was worth introducing the new Templar to the Circle, but when I met you...that disgust I felt for myself, for what I was, was gone for that second I saw you. For the first time since I was born, someone smiled at me genuinely and said they were 'glad to meet me'. There was no fear the other Templars had for me, just you, being the beautiful man you are." The mage smiled softly, "I was so happy the times we spent together. I was glad to be a mage, as long as you didn't hate me."

Cullen was tense as she spoke, finally resting his sword on the table and leaning forward against the wooden edge with his palms flat on the warm surface. His memories were coming back too. The morning he met Astrid, red hair braided over her shoulder and clutching books to her then supple chest. She had forced a smile then, yet he could see she was sad, but then he smiled back and shook her hand. It was a memory he cherished well.

"Then that night...in the chapel." The room fell still, like the world had fallen into a frost. "I was so terrified of becoming a full-fledged mage, so scared that that kindness you showed me would disappear. I was preparing myself for the day you would look at me with horror and reject our friendship. Until that night, I was content with just being friends...but then you kissed me and touched me and-," he heard her shallowed breath, causing Cullen to tense in other areas now. "I was always prone to demons, so I was terrified that night wasn't real, that my damn magic had somehow forced you to act- to want me as more than a mere acquaintance."

Astrid turned fully to his back, the muscles there going rigid under her gaze. "I'm so sorry Cullen, for confusing you and hurting you- for everything those mages did to you because of me. If I had just been a better mage, I could have controlled myself, you wouldn't have had those false feelings for me- or be suspected by the Knight-Commander," she was trying not to cry now, and Cullen's knuckles were digging into the table. "I won't trick you anymore, I- I'm going to tell the Knight-Commander the truth, and if I'm lucky, I'll be sent to another tower. You won't have to deal with me anymore." The Templar froze as he heard her making quick stride to the door, running away from him. "Goodbye Cullen."

She made to leave, Astrid knew returning to her chamber unseen from this floor would be an strenuous task, but just as the door opened a fraction it was closed. The mage turned in surprise. Cullen stood over her, fist keeping her exit shut. His azure eyes bore into her and the anger she hoped to avoid flashed across his face. Astrid closed her eyes, waiting for his hateful words to rip her apart.

"You think- magic made me strip you of your garments and take you in the chapel?" The Enchanter was too thunderstruck to respond, watery eyes blinking self-consciously at his blunt wording. "Magic didn't make me ache just to have the pleasure of your body again, or make me carry you from that same chapel half dead in my arms Astrid!" Cullen curled his fingers under her jaw, keeping her from turning away, cheeks flushed. "I did it because that first day I met you, I was already smitten, and as you grew into the gorgeous temptation I could never have," he felt like his heart would explode, "I was enamored with you, and I could no longer hold back."

Astrid again tried to move, but Cullen only stepped closer to her. Their bodies nearly touched, faces inches from becoming one. At last, the mage forced herself to completely turn around and tried desperately to yank the door open against the Templar's brute strength. "Don't run," he whispered over her shoulder and a familiar feeling crept through her. Cullen had pleaded with those words before.

"It's- it's a dangerous thing..." she whispered back to him.

"And I don't care."


	31. Hanging On

**I was listening to a medley of sad songs while I wrote this, including the ending theme of Mass Effect 3, cause it's a tear-jerker even out of game. I almost split this into two chapters and may later on, but right now I think together it makes a better final chapter together. This chapter does feature the two having a romantic night, it is not graphic, just a little awkward since they are taking it more seriously this time. So if you don't like to read those sort of things, please feel free to skip to the end of the chapter. It's not all too important to the story, but it adds to it. Anyways, next chapter will be the epilogue and then I'll be starting the sequel- which still needs a title :| Anyhow, please enjoy and send me your opinions on what you think of the pre-epilogue ending!**

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><p>XXXI. HANGING ON<p>

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><p>Cullen was at his wits end. He was far from a gentleman as he forced Astrid to turn around and pushed her back into the door, their combined weight making the door creak. The mage gasped once and then the Templar's lips chaffed against hers, chaste and sinless, the very definition of a man of the Chantry. Her small fingers curled into his much larger ones from where he held them above her head, nails digging into his boney knuckles. At last, when both were on the brink of suffocating, they plucked away from one another, and Cullen pulled his hands down to her waist. He pressed his forehead against hers, noses squished against one another, and without looking he locked the chamber door with a key hanging from an iron hook on the wall. "I- I-," he was breathless, speechless, returning to his former stuttering. Astrid smiled, placing her hand along his cheek, and he quickly covered hers with his. "I love you Astrid," he finally whispered, like the walls were as thin as parchment.<p>

The mage stroked his lips with her thumb, grinning, "And I you."

He pulled her hand from his face and over his shoulder, embracing her again as the mage wrapped her arms around his neck. Their kisses were light and feathery as Cullen encircled her waist, sweeping the Enchanter off her feet and in the direction of his bunk. It wasn't as lavish and full of pillows as the mage's was, they were Templars for Maker's sake, but it was better than a stone floor or a closet. He sank into the edge of the bed first, careful as he placed Astrid into his lap, there was an eagerness in his pants he was hesitant to rush. Astrid smiled knowingly and leaned forward to kiss him again, once and gently, leaving him blushing as she forced his hands down her sides and to her thighs. "I want- I want to do this t- the right way," he stammered, suddenly nervous.

Astrid smiled through reddening cheeks, and kissed him much longer this time. She slipped her hands from his, and no longer restrained, Cullen slowly moved them back up the length of her body, careful as his palms pressed into the soft sides of her clothed bust. He carefully removed the brooch that pinned the thick cloak over her shoulders and remained still as the black velvet pooled at his feet; she was in all her robes still. Cullen cradled her face in his hands and forced her to kiss him again, no longer caring for subtleness, he would take his time when there was nothing clothed on her. He grew rougher with his kiss, demanding the mage to keep pace with his fervent lips, all the while his hands working on the sash tight around her waist. Astrid finally helped him, impatience being contagious, and too made waste to the belt she also wore. The templar felt their lips tug away and opened his eyes to watch as the mage began to remove her boots, and soon he did too before it became an annoyance.

The mage laughed, biting her lip before touching their lips again, Cullen's smile opening his mouth to her longing tongue. Deeper they fell into sin, the Templar gasping as Astrid's fingers brushed the tightness of his pants, reaching for the leather belt that held them. He fingered the first layer of her robes, parting momentarily to yank it over her head, red hair disarrayed as she clung to him again. Rushingly she untucked his shirt and pulled it off, trapping his arms within the shirt. Cullen awkwardly try to free himself, but the mage stopped him as she breathed warmly against his throat. He continued to struggle as Astrid's hot mouth kissed down the length of his neck, hands slithering in long strokes against his now bare chest. "A- Astrid," he begged her, feeling her lips smirk against his collar.

She freed his arms and felt them on her again.

And promptly through all the impatient fervor, the Senior Enchanter was bare to him at last, ample chest rising with each deep breath she took and nothing but the small clothes low on her hips. Cullen studied her trembling figure, from the deep curves to the pale complexion of her skin, and sadly, to all her scars. Always hidden beneath her robes, the Templar was now well aware just how much misery his love endured, and it pained him. There was naught a thing he could do to ever eliminate those tortured moments, ashamed of his weakness, Cullen hugged Astrid abruptly, cheek pressed against her naked breast. "They're hideous," she lamented into his shoulder, moving him to squeeze her tighter. His fingers found a long blemish that angled into her hip, tracing it with dull fingertips. Cullen felt his magess tremble, hands curling into his golden curls with a gasp as his lips kissed the sensitive skin.

"They are badges of a beautiful and strong woman," he whispered into her belly, the gentle caress of his lips moving up her nude stomach. Cullen would make her forget how these scars occurred if it was the last thing he did.

No longer a chaste man of the Maker fumbling with a beautiful woman's body, the newly confident Templar kissed another scar before bravely licking its length across her aroused breast. Astrid's nailed indented into his back as she bit her lip, the door was locked but the room wasn't soundproof. However, Cullen wanted to hear her, so he teased and bit her, sucking and licking until the skin was red. She withdrew slightly, directing Cullen's fingers over the ridges of her blemishes and then her swelling chest. He groped the tender flesh and kissed her on the mouth, nearly biting her lip when Astrid's fingers danced lightly across his swollen crotch. Burning for desire, for her sinful flesh, Cullen was a drawstring away from popping out of his trousers. Breath hitching, he shook as she pawed and grabbed him. "I- I can't," he froze as the vixen's cold hands pulled the strings of his pants, striking a cord in him.

Cullen twisted the mage in his arms with haste, gentle as he pushed her into the bed, careful to hold his weight over her. Astrid arched herself against him, and he groaned as her vivacious breasts wedged between them. He moved down her body again to rid the mage of the last forsaken piece of clothing, hands treading nervously as the buttons of her small clothes popped free. Impatient and trembling, the last of her garments joined the floor and Cullen was remembering their first night. An awkward and sweaty night between two novice lovers, and here they are now, what felt like years older and wiser. He stared at her naked body motionless, flinching when Astrid stroked his face, "Your shaking."

He met her smoky eyes, lively and loving again after so many months of nightmares. Cullen pushed forward to kiss her, sweetly at first, until Astrid squeezed her thighs against his hips causing the Templar to bite her lip this time. The gesture erupted into a battle of tongue and air, passion as thick as their desperation for one another. And in the midst of it all, the mage helped the Templar with the knots on his pants, touching his hot flesh with a single stroke before Cullen pushed into her. Astrid's hand flew to cover her mouth as a loud whimper nearly escaped her bleeding lips, other hand digging into her lover's shoulder. Tears welded in the corner of her eyes, bringing Cullen to suspend any further movement. "Am I hurting you?" he whispered huskily, the lust heavy in his labored breathing. Cullen pressed his forehead against hers, "If it pains you-"

"Hush," the pained mage muttered through her fingers. Astrid tightened her legs at his waist, listening to him grumble a moan as they became closer. She threw her arms around his neck, bodies wet and slick from their hot perspiration, and inhaled deeply. Cullen felt that familiar tingling of her magic passing over his skin, caressing him everywhere that mattered. Finally she smiled, placing her icy lyrium scarred palms on his cheeks, eyes serious as she spoke, "Take this pain away." The tingling became erratic all at once, face numb from where her scars were touching his face, and even though she was beaming up at him, suffering quivered behind her spellbinding facade.

The Templar claimed her lips and shifted his hips, covering her mouth with his before a noise could be made. Astrid's nails raked up his back, toes curling against his lower back as Cullen paced himself. She couldn't recall how many trysts they had prior to tonight, just that they were clumsy and rushed, but none of that mattered now. Melting into one another, Astrid mouthed directions against his lips and Cullen complied. Harder, faster, he would do anything the mage told him. Her lip continued to bleed as she silenced herself, teeth gnawing it raw as Cullen kissed and sucked her neck, teeth grazing where the demon had sank his fangs into her. It stung, but Astrid forced the Templar to kiss her, replacing the pain mentally. "Astrid-" he grunted, voice shallowing as his end neared.

"Yes love?" The new Enchanter breathed, clinging to Cullen as he had her now cradling in his lap, just enough balance to finish their deed. Astrid returned her lips to his mouth, bodies in sync till the final thrust.

Cullen felt the thrill of her magic as she tightened around him, felt her body quiver as the last of their love making dragged into an end, and as he himself had that final ache before they both collapsed gasping. Astrid curled into him as he rolled onto his side, pulling the disarrayed and wrinkled sheets over them both. Everything was so right, so perfect. For a moment he was merely a man and Astrid merely a woman, two people hopelessly in love with nothing to tear them apart, but the moment was fleeting. A letter was waiting for his response, Greagoir was waiting and hoping he'd make the right decision. A Templar in Greenfell, or a Knight-Captain in Kirkwall? He subconsciously rubbed Astrid's bare arm, still warm to the touch as she watched him think. "There's something I must tell you-" Cullen turned to his love, her finger silencing him from saying anything further.

"In the morning," she told him, surprising the Templar, "I have to sneak out soon." Cullen remained eager to speak, as if ready to continue once her finger was removed. Astrid shook her head and laid on top of him, "Do you want me to lay with you naked a little bit longer, or talk while I get dressed?"

He averted his gaze to her bare body carefully laying over him, her sparkling bosom, toned derrière, and shapely legs, all exposed to him only. Cullen opened his mouth and then closed it, smiling, "Tomorrow then."

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><p>Astrid was bundled in a warm robe when she entered the chantry, the night was cold and everyone was attending dinner. The chantry had been cleared of rubble so that sermons could continue regularly, the statue of Andraste waiting to be replaced. Only a single pew remained, the others towed away to be used as firewood for later, and most of the drapes had been quickly fixed with a needle. She padded to the front row, placing an old bronze candleholder on one of the tables as she went to sit down, stopping when she realized she was not alone. An eerie sense of déjà vu washed over the senior Enchanter as a solemn Cullen sat waiting, leaning forward on his elbows, hands together as he stared vacantly forward. "You use to come here when you were deeply troubled," Cullen said to her, never looking away from the wall.<p>

"'Tis true," she replied, crossing her arms for warmth as she strode to sit beside him, taking in his unusual attire. Instead of his usual shiny Templar armor, Cullen was dressed for travel, a thought that brought Astrid's heart to a rapid beat. "Is something bothering you Cullen?" The mage took Cullen's hand into hers, kissing his knuckles softly and holding it in her lap.

Whatever little black cloud had been over his head was blown away suddenly and Cullen leaned in to deliver a soft, peculiar kiss. He smiled, but faintly, squeezing her hand so tightly it hurt. "I wanted to tell you last night," he whispered to her, shame painting his words as Cullen looked up at her. "But you were so beautiful...," his grin broadened, "how could I say no." The Templar had both of Astrid's hands now, holding them so closely to his heart. "I got this letter...from Kirkwall, the Knight-Commander there was congratulating me for the blood mage incident..." he didn't need to say more, both the mage and the Templar knew. "I was asked to become Knight-Captain there- I originally had a choice, but then this morning..." Cullen looked away, "Greagoir said I had to go, that I couldn't refuse."

The mage stilled, fingers slipping from his grasp and eyes falling to the ground. She was surprised, but barely, however Cullen hadn't noticed. When he looked back at her, she put fourth her most worried look and shook her head, "So you're leaving?"

"Believe me Astrid, this wasn't my decision!" The Templar held her face, causing a spew of tears to fall down her face. She told herself she wasn't going to cry.

"I believe you," she choked, shaking as she tried to stunt the crying.

Cullen didn't want this, he had planned to go to Greenfell, at least then he might have a chance to come back to her. Once Greagoir retired, he could make a request to return to the tower, to the woman he loved. "Tell me not to go..." he whispered to her. Astrid's red eyes widened in disbelief and shook her head against his hand. "Tell me not to go, and I'll beg to stay!" Cullen repeated with more anguish.

Astrid felt her chest tighten in guilt, head slowly shaking back and fourth. "It won't work," she whispered back to him. Deep down, Cullen knew the miserable truth himself. _Why now?_ he thought furiously to himself. When everything was finally in place, the demons had been banished and Astrid was finally his to hold. _Why did Greagoir change his mind?_

She felt Cullen's hands fall from hers, and although the temptation to take them again was there, Astrid forced herself to turn around with tears still streaming down her face. The mage wanted to say something and soothe him, she wanted to say 'it would be alright', but that would be a lie and Astrid couldn't bring herself to hurt him any further. The truth was at the tip of her tongue, everything she wanted Cullen to know, but even as she turned her head it was another who spoke first.

"Cullen!" Astrid didn't have to move to know it was Ser Mathias you called through the dark. "They're here," he continued. One night of perfect bliss and he was to be swept away to the Free Marches. He had hoped the Blight would force him to stay, at least until the Darkspawn were driven back, but Greagoir remained resolute and Cullen would leave immediately. The Templar couldn't see the logic in the Knight-Commander's decision, but the decision could not be undone.

He stood and retrieved his sword, propped against the base of a former statue, and strapped it securely to the leather belt at his waist. Astrid watched him with tired eyes, she didn't sleep a wink, and remained tossing and turning till morning. She felt sick as her love's shadow devoured her into darkness. Nothing would please her more than to jump into his arms and tell Cullen exactly what he wanted to hear, probably needed to hear. However, Astrid kept her eyes averted and hands grasping at her skirt. It would kill her to see his face. "I'll come back, one way or another Astrid," he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "I'll come back to you,I promise."

She could feel his hand tremble as it left her face, heard each hesitant footstep makes its way to the door, and then she felt Cullen's presence pass in the threshold. Astrid bit her lip, she couldn't turn around. A raspy breath escaped her lips as he finally left, and with her resolve shattering, the mage began to cry uncontrollably into the palm of her hands. Everyone she had ever cared for, ever loved: Myrah, Wynne, Anders, now Cullen, were gone. Old feelings crashed through her and everything hurt at once, as if her very beating heart had been ripped away. She cried until her eyes were swollen and numb, face cold, and legs tucked into her chest. The Senior Enchanter knew this was the last time she could cry for him, long for him, ever think of Cullen again. As soon as she took that first step out of the chantry, he would be merely a Templar who was nice to her, and she the newly appointed Enchanter.

_I'll come back to you, I promise._ She quoted in her head, another empty promise. Astrid shook her head, hand crumpling evidence of her guilt hidden within her pocket. "No you won't," she whispered, dragging the wrinkled letter out into the open. And although it stung, the mage summoned a fire spell and burned the Knight-Commander's letter from Kirkwall into ashes.


	32. One Year Later

**So this was going to be the final chapter, but I didn't feel that it was the ending I wanted, which is also why this took much longer for me to finish as well. Anyhow, the next chapter should be the last one, but I won't make any promises this time. As sad as I am to see this story come to an end, I am thrilled to start the sequel, and I hope it will be as enjoyable as this was. As always, enjoy, review, etc. And to anyone who is interested on my activities, I have a tumblr I'm rather active on, feel free to chat with me there. I share a lot of DA things, including some of my own things. Just look for the name: amellheartscullen. Link will be on my profile.**

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><p>XXXII. ONE YEAR LATER<p>

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><p>"Miss Amell, beautiful as ever." A cringe betrayed the mage's stoic demeanor when the templar tried to charm her with his voice, words as venomous as a snake. Ser Royce grinned coyly, eyes wandering over her with sick infatuation, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He knew why she stood before him, marred hands curled into fidgety fists at her sides, eyes dark and narrowed like a raven. An amused chuckle rang through his lips, matching the mage's damning glare. "You wound me with your gaze Miss Amell," he coed, standing, towering over her as stepped around his desk, lips curled in ill intent, "Does the sight of me not bring fourth any hidden desires?"<p>

Astrid scoffed, disgusted at the familiar temper of his voice. Once receded memories festered at the back of her mind, causing the mage to flinch from the hauntings. "No desires Ser," she spat, "just more reason to loath you."

The templar laughed and approached her, "I have never met such resistance from a mage before." Ser Royce reached to play with the hair over her shoulder, streaming it through his fingers with careful grace. She saw his teeth tug at his lip, the hesitation as his knuckles brushed her collarbone, "Your rejection only sweetens the temptation."

A loud smack echoed through the chamber, and Ser Royce stood still, the profile of his face left with a red palm print. "Don't you ever go near one of my apprentices again," Astrid warned. If Knight-Captain Hadley wouldn't help her with this matter, she would confront it herself. "You don't fool me Ser, and your attempt to intimidate me is asinine," her hand stung from where it had made contact, but the enchanter didn't falter. Astrid Amell had endured too much. Tortured by the hands of blood mages, defiled by demons, she was scrutinized by the templars and blamed for the Circle's misfortune. The mage had long since gone numb to the world around her, cold, heart barely beating. Only a single regret plagued Astrid now, and he was kingdoms away, free from this cursed place.

Royce laughed, loud and throaty. A chill rattled through her bones and Astrid found herself taking an unconscious step back as the templar turned on her, eyes burning. For a moment, a spark of fear crossed her features. "It would seem you are far from the pious apprentice in her letters." He grinned, a toothy snarl, a knowing smirk that left Astrid pale. "You know, Astrid," he growled, enjoying the taste of her name on his tongue, "when I first came here, I couldn't believe what my sister said of you." Astrid stilled at the sly vein of his words, shaking under his watchful eye. "A lurid affair with a templar," Ser Royce scoffed, chuckling, mocking her, "how romantic."

Astrid's lips parted in surprise, jaw clenched. It only pleased him more.

"Oh I know all about it. A quick rut between the pews in the cover of night, but you didn't stop your campaign there," he teased, stepping closer to the mage with each word. "You seduced a soon to be apostate, casted your sultry spell over the templars-," Royce reached for her, but Astrid shied away. He smirked, surveying her with immodest eyes, laughing again. "You probably didn't even have to use a spell. Just the natural sway of your hips is enough to memorize any real man, and those lips..." Suddenly the templar's jaw twitched, his savvy smirk withdrawn and replaced with a scowl of such malice that Astrid's entire body flinched. "You got what you deserved by them blood mages, yet you still got away with it," he spoke with aversion, mixed with a demented sense of lust, "blaming _my_ sister, for _your_ demons."

Astrid heard the angry beat of his boots as he moved to her, but her reaction was too slow, the revelation too painfully shocking. She turned, but Royce had already snatched her at the waist, yanking her back and off her feet. Fear struck her like never before, every tormented second she spent beneath a demon, bleeding and breaking, was coming back. She wouldn't survive that pain a second time. So she kicked and scratched and screamed through the hand covering her mouth, but the templar was stronger. Royce pushed her against the desk, one hand tangled angrily in her hair while the the other tried to pin her arms, but she refused to be subjected like that again.

Fist in her flaming hair, he pulled her back before slamming Astrid's forehead against the hard wood of his desk. She gasped, windless and stunned, but not without bite. "_Your sister_-" she huffed, "got what she deserved." Astrid barely hissed out the last words before Royce cracked her head against the desk again, this time drawing blood from the brow and a splatter from her nose. The mage breathed shakily from her mouth, trembling from the pain, dazed.

"My sister only wanted to be free," Royce snarled over the movement of his belt, causing the mage to struggle again, forcing her uncoordinated limbs to writhe from his grasp. "You should have played along Miss Amell, you should have let my dear sister slit your throat, because now-," Astrid felt her skull crack a third time against the harsh surface, now with a busted lip, bleeding from her mouth,"Now, I will put those pretty lips to good use."

He began to pull up her robes, ripping the sleeve from her shoulder, and every second she spent plundered under a demon, or possessed templar came creeping back. No longer the stone faced magess, Astrid bit her cheek, tasting her blood- tasting power. The enchanter blinked back tears, a voice she had prayed every night to never hear again whispered against her ear. The voice was seductive, smooth as velvet as instructions caressed through her, her thoughts no longer her own. Astrid curled her fingers against the surface, scratching the wood with her blunt nails, scuffing her knuckles. Her mouth was red with blood, the copper savor suddenly as sweet as Orlesian wine, intoxicating. Astrid moaned against her better judgement, encouraging an unwanted chuckle from her abuser. "Don't tell me the you've already given in to my charm?" he coaxed from behind her, hands now at her waist.

"No," she breathed, "something worse."

Twisting abruptly, Astrid spat in his face, the blood in her mouth splashing across his cheek and immediately beginning to boil. Royce recoiled from her, frantic to wipe away the fluid that was beginning to burn his face. Her head was spinning, but she managed to her feet, wiping the blood draining from her nose with the remains of her sleeve. The templar's attempts only spread the pain across the left side of his face, flesh cooking as Astrid tasted blood on her upper lip again. The voice was still there, just at her shoulder, praising her, but it needed more, _she_ needed more. Royce's cries were pleasant, strangely music to her ears as she examined his desk, searching. A dagger sat perched, the tip pushed into the wood, hilt glinting, the voice begging for its touch.

Astrid stretched for the weapon, relieved as it fit into her palm, cold against her aching fingers. She turned to Royce, cradling the wounded side of his face, barely looking up at the sound of her approach. All off her senses had melted away, only the strange familiar voice to guide her, telling her to lick the blade across her exposed skin. So she held the blade up, ready to marvel at the dominion she would soon have over the templar, but Astrid froze and stared. She saw the reflection of nails digging into her shoulder, lips curled back in a devious smirk, flaxen eyes gazing back at her through the reflection in the dagger.

_I told you, I'd be back._

The dagger slipped from her hand just as Ser Royce's door broke open, templars in the doorway. Astrid suddenly could see all the blood on her hands, the small cut she had began to make across her wrist, and Mathias, wide-eyed and gaping. She staggered, glancing at the men entering the room to Royce, whose smirk sent daggers through her very being. "She's a blood mage!" he hollered to his fellow templars, feigning that his wound still caused him pain, "look what she's done to me!"

Blood mage. Astrid succumbed. Envy had finally gotten to her. And now, she would be cut down without a second thought.

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of her again, mana drained just enough to leave her standing. A hand encircled her wrist, dragging her over the fallen templars and into the hall. Astrid looked up as they paused, "Mathias?" The templar met her eyes and continued to move her away from the room, towards the stairs. "Mathias don't do this!" she begged, as they took the steps two at a time down, his fingers squeezing her wrist.

"Your no blood mage Astrid," he said back to her, ducking into a doorway as templars passed, catching the curious eyes of mages studying in their room.

Astrid shook her head, "You saw what I did to him- I- I am."

Mathias stopped again and hid her from view against the wall, moving her hand against his palm. "He's deranged, he forced your hand Astrid," the templar spoke harshly, glancing down the hall to check for clearance. "Dagna came to us, said she had noticed something strange with him, something familiar," he explained as they moved through another set of stairs. "He's Zelda's brother, and just as mad, if not worst," Mathias' limp grew worst as they moved through the library, stopping to duck behind a shelf as Knight-Captain Hadley and a crew of templars marched hastily through.

Astrid squeezed the templar's hand and leaned into his shoulder, "I'm not afraid to die." She felt him tremble at her whisper, catching her eyes with a worried look. The mage slid to her knees and against the shelf, Mathias falling next to her willingly.

"Cullen would not forgive me if something happened to you."

The enchanter's breathing hitched, fingers clinging tighter around his, "He has not written in over a year. As far as I'm concerned, Cullen would never know."

"Don't think like that Astrid," he shook her by the shoulders, keeping her eyes on him. "You've suffered so much, the demons and the mages- you even fought through the Blight!" Astrid was turning her head, but Mathias caught her cheek and tilted her face back at him, "So what if you know a little blood magic, hmm?" The templar squeezed her hand again, cherishing it between his palms, "That doesn't mean you have to use it, and if anything, you're the only mage I know that can control it."

Shouting echoed from the floor above them and Astrid felt the noose around her neck tighten. She remained hesitant, as Mathias stood and extended his hand out to her, hazel eyes begging her to follow him out. Astrid blinked, contemplating the decision she needed to make. Stay, and meet the Knight-Captain's blade in execution or run, damning herself to the life of an apostate, a maleficarum. Cullen suddenly came to mind, that ache in her chest returning whenever she thought of him and her hand in him being sent to Kirkwall. If only she could see him again.

Standing, she took Mathias's waiting hand, committing her fate. The pair trekked from the library, the light touch of magic and smell of old books imprinted on Astrid's memory as they passed through the Main Hall, dodging more hustling templars. Apprentices stepped from their path, watching naively as a templar escorted the mage he intended to free. Astrid's gaze passed over her old chamber, the bunk she shared for years with Myrah, all figments of her soon to be former life. Mathias hid her once more as they rounded the corner, with only the guarded front doors to go through. He marched ahead, calling at the templar guards, "Quick, the Knight-Captain has found a blood mage, he needs aid!" The guards didn't even hesitate, freeing their swords and brushing past Mathias with no regards to who would guard the door now.

He came for her again, fingers laced tightly with hers, only letting go to lift the padlock.

Astrid's tousled hair whipped back as they met the impending storm, black clouds rumbling with thunder, lightning cracking across the heavens. The dock creaked as Lake Calenhad churned and crashed against the tower, cold water spraying at her ankles. She inhaled the salty sea air, turning her face from the wind, clinging to Mathias as the edged their way to the dock's end. Water as black as ink, Astrid struggled to see shore as the rain swept through in pounding bands of frigid water. "I can't swim," she yelled over the gale, squinting to see the templar.

Mathias held her face closer to his, "Don't try, stay afloat and let the current carry you." She felt wet velvet pressed into her palm and looked down to see a pouch, heavy with coin. "Get to Denerim and take ship," he hollered as the rain pelted against them.

"Where will I go? With my phylactery I won't get far-" she asked of him, gasping as the front doors began to open from the other side. "Mathias come with me!"

The templar smiled, a sad smile, and shook his head. "Go to Kirkwall," he spoke just loud enough for her to hear, wiping what little blood remained on her lip with his thumb. She opened her mouth to protest, shaking her drenched head, but Mathias would have none of it. He cupped her face, wet lips meetings hers, stunning the mage before he pushed her into the dark waters below.


End file.
